AH  Dow  CHENE 


PARKER 


REMINISCENCES 


OF 


EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY 

(BORN   LITTLEHALE) 


BOSTON: 

LEE    &    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 
1902. 


Copyright,  1902,  by 
EDNAH   Dow   CHENEY 

Published  December,  1902 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS    •    JOHN    WILSON 
AND     SON     .     CAMBRIDGE,     U.S.A. 


D  ED  1C  AT  I  ON. 


To  all  who  have  loved  me,  to  all  whom  I  have  loved, 

To  all  who  have  helped  me  by  sympathy  and  by  rebuke,  by  honest 

demand  and  by  stern  counsel, 

I  GRATEFULLY  DEDICATE    THIS  LIFE 

Which  is  gone  through  sunshine  and  shade 
to- a  peaceful  end. 

"  Life  is  earnest 
And  the  grave  is  not  its  goal" 

E.  D.  CHENEY. 


M134304 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

GENEALOGY      x 

CHAPTER 

I.    BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD 1 

II.    GIRLHOOD 22 

III.  EARLY  FRIENDS 41 

IV.  AFTER  MARRIAGE 59 

V.    THE  SCHOOL  OF  DESIGN 69 

VI.    ANTI-SLAVERY  AND  FREEDMEN'S  WORK      ....  80 

VII.    TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER  ...  99 

VIII.    CONCORD  SCHOOL  OF  PHILOSOPHY 119 

IX.    ART 128 

X.    REFORMS 147 

XL    CONCLUSION 161 

APPENDIX 

PRAYER 175 

SONG 176 

"  BEGGAR  AT  THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL  " 177 

WAITING  HELP 178 

I  SHALL  BE  SATISFIED  WHEN  I  AWAKE  WITH  THY  LIKENESS    .  179 

TRANSCENDENTALISM 180 

SARAH  MARGARET  FULLER 192 

THE  REIGN  OF  WOMANHOOD 223 

To  MRS.  CHENEY 236 

vii 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

FIFTIETH  BIRTHDAY 237 

PSYCHOMETRIC  READINGS 238 

SETH  WELLS  CHENEY 238 

JANE  CHENEY 23!) 

SARAH  MARGARET  FULLER, 240 

JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS 244 

A.  BRONSON  ALCOTT 246 

EXTRACTS  FROM  ACCOUNT- BOOK  OF  S3.  IS.  LITTLEHALK  .  248 


INDEX 251 


Vlll 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


EDNAH  Dow  CHENEY.     From  a  photograph  from  life, 

1874 Frontispiece 

EDNAH  Dow  CHENEY'S  HOUSE Titlepage 

JEREMIAH  Dow.     By  Mrs.  Hildreth,  about  1844  .    Facing  page    2 

EDNAH  Dow.     About  1843.     From  a  crayon  por 
trait  by  Mrs.  Hildreth 20 

SARGENT  S.  LITTLEHALE.     Photographed  from  a 

portrait  by  Page,  1846 22 

EDNAH   P.   LITTLEHALE.     Photographed    from   a 

portrait  by  Page,  1846 40 

SETH  W.  CHENEY.     From   a   miniature  painting 

by  Dubourjal,  1834 60 

EDNAH  Dow  CHENEY.     From  a  crayon  portrait  by 

S.W.  Cheney,  1854 "         68 

EDNAH  P.  LITTLEHALE.     From  a  crayon  portrait 

by  Harriet  Cheney "         78 

MARGARET    S.    CHENEY.      Photographed   from    a 

portrait  by  Geo.  Fuller,  1883 98 

SETH  W.   CHENEY.      From    a   daguerreotype    by 

Hawes "       120 

HELEN  P.   LITTLEHALE.     1854 '•       128 

MARGARET    S.    CHENEY.       From    an    ambrotype, 

1860  "       160 


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REMINISCENCES 


OF 


EDNAH     DOW     CHENEY 


CHAPTER   I. 
BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD. 

"  The  days,  the  precious  days,  we  gladly  let  them  fly, 
That  still  more  precious  fruit  may  ripen  by-and-by, 
A  rare  and  wondrous  plant  that  shall  bloom  out  some  night 
A  child  we  're  training  up,  a  book  we  long  to  write." 

RUCKERT,  Wisdom  of  the  Brahmins. 

JAMAICA  PLAIN,  April  15,  1893. 

T  HAVE  so  often  been  asked  to  write  out  my  recollections  of 
my  (nearly)  seventy  years  of  life  that  I  am  tempted  to  take 
a  day  of  enforced  leisure  to  begin,  at  least,  to  recall  the  past. 
Alfieri  says  "a  man  writes  a  biography  from  self-love,"  and 
also  that  he  does  not  intend  to  speak  of  other  people.  But  if 
I  may  hope  to  make  my  sketch  interesting,  it  must  be  by  telling 
of  other  people  I  have  known ;  for  I  have  had  a  quiet  life,  with 
very  little  of  either  achievement  or  adventure  in  it. 

My  genealogy  offers  little  of  interest.  I  belong  to  humble 
folks,  and  can  trace  my  descent  to  neither  William  the  Con 
queror  nor  the  "  Mayflower."  My  mother's  family,  named  Dow, 
removed  from  Massachusetts  to  New  Hampshire.  From  the 
name  I  judge  that  they  may  have  been  of  "our  folks  in 


2  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

Holland."  They  certainly  had  the  old  Calvinistic  traits,  and 
were  as  rigid  in  their  faith  as  the  founders  of  New  England. 
I  have  heard  my  mother  tell  how  straight-backed  her  grand 
father  was,  and  how  venerable  he  looked  with  his  long  white 
hair,  as  he  walked  out  of  the  Baptist  church  when  the  bass-viol 
was  brought  in.  He  had  a  heart,  though,  like  other  men,  and 
fell  in  love  with  a  gay  young  woman  who  delighted  to  tease 
him  by  performing  the  rite  of  baptism  on  the  cats  of  the  family. 
He  prayed  much  over  the  question  of  marrying  such  an  un- 
regenerate  maiden,  but  concluded  that  it  might  prove  for  the 
good  of  her  soul,  and  was  greatly  rejoiced  when  after  their 
marriage  she  became  regularly  converted  and  joined  his  church. 
He  was  then  supremely  happy.  Living  on  a  farm  they  had 
pretty  hard  times  through  the  Eevolution.  Some  of  mother's 
stories  are  preserved  in  my  story  of  "  Sally  "Williams." 

My  grandmother's  name  was  Ednah  Parker.  Her  family  was 
undoubtedly  English  and  of  good  standing.  They  lived  in  Brad 
ford  on  the  Merrimack,  and  were  the  principal  family  of  the 
place.  My  great-grandmother  was  named  Ednah  Hardy,  and 
the  name,  Ednah,  then  unusual,  has  been  kept  in  the  family  for 
four  generations,  and  always  spelled  with  the  "  h."  *  One  anecdote 
is  worth  preserving.  When  grandmother  was  young  her  parents 
went  off  for  a  visit,  leaving  the  children  to  keep  house.  They 
took  the  opportunity  to  make  for  breakfast  a  "  Johnny-cake  "  of 
Indian  meal,  of  which  they  were  very  fond ;  but  they  were  very 
much  mortified  when  a  neighbor  happened  to  look  in  and  found 
them  partaking  of  such  miserable  food  as  only  the  poorest 
people  deigned  to  eat.  Grandfather  Dow  moved  to  Exeter, 
N".  H.,  where  he  carried  on  a  large  tannery.  I  remember  that 
whenever  we  passed  a  tan-yard  in  our  drives,  mother  would  say, 
as  she  inhaled  the  familiar  smell,  "  There  lives  an  honest  man." 


*  I  haVe  always  fought  for  this  "h,"  and  with  good  reason;  for  my  Hebrew 
friends  tell  me  the  "h"  is  a  sacred  letter,  aud  means  "the  favor  of  God." 


BIRTH    AND    CHILDHOOD.  3 

After  the  fashion  of  children  I  pondered  in  secret,  but  never  in 
quired,  of  the  connection  between  hemlock  bark  and  honesty. 

My  grandmother  was  an  admirable  woman.  She  was  remark 
able  for  her  warm,  unselfish  affection,  for  her  excellent  judgment, 
and  her  executive  powers.  She  had,  moreover,  a  broad,  progres 
sive  mind,  and  a  sweet  touch  of  poetic  feeling  and  perception  of  the 
feelings  of  others.  I  always  felt  that  she  understood  me  better 
than  any  other  person.  I  had  that  most  inconvenient  fault  of 
carelessness,  for  which  I  got  so  many  rebukes  that  I  was  deeply 
convinced  of  my  own  worthlessness.  I  have  always  been 
very  grateful  to  her,  for  I  once  overheard  her  say,  when  some 
body  was  praising  a  cousin  for  her  virtues  of  neatness  and 
order,  "  Well,  I  would  n't  give  our  Xed  for  her,  after  all." 

Grandmother  never  had  firm  health,  suffering  greatly  from 
asthma.  She  died  at  sixty-nine  years  of  age.  A  short  time  be 
fore  her  death  I  one  day  brought  home  "  Paul  and  Virginia,"  in 
French.  She  was  greatly  disappointed  to  find  it  was  in  French, 
as  she  said  she  had  not  read  it  since  she  was  a  child  ;  so  I  trans 
lated  it  aloud  to  her  and  she  enjoyed  it  very  much.  She  never 
joined  the  popular  church,  and  read  Emerson  and  Parker  with 
great  enjoyment. 

My  father  carne  from  Gloucester  on  old  Cape  Ann.  His 
father  died  when  he  was  but  twelve  years  old,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  go  at  once  into  Mr.  Mansfield's  store  to  earn  his 
living.  His  brothers  went  to  sea,  and  I  believe  all  but  one 
perished  on  the  water.  He  used  to  say  that  he  felt  rather 
ashamed  that  he  did  not  want  to  go  to  sea  himself,  but  he  had 
no  fancy  for  it. 

When  father  was  a  young  boy,  the  boys  wished  to  celebrate 
Fourth  of  July,  or  Independence  day,  as  it  was  then  often  called. 
To  do  this  properly,  good  liquor  was  necessary,  and  they  clubbed 
their  small  resources  to  buy  a  pint  of  rum;  but  this  was  not 
enough  to  make  them  all  tipsy,  so  they  decided  that  one  or  two 
should  drink  it  for  the  credit  of  the  company. 


4  REMINISCENCES    OF    EDNAH    DOW   CHENEY. 

The  Editor  of  the  "  Genealogy  of  the  Littlehale  Family,"  when 
wishing  me  to  buy  his  book,  told  me  that  I  was  the  most 
distinguished  member  of  the  family  !  Such  unimpeachable  testi 
mony  closes  all  hope  of  claiming  a  remarkable  origin. 

I  never  knew  my  Grandmother  Littlehale,  but  suspect  that 
she  was  not  particularly  amiable.  She  was  a  belle  and  a  beauty 
in  her  youth,  and  was  married  very  early  to  a  Captain  Edgar. 
My  grandfather  fell  in  love  with  her  when  he  saw  her  walking 
out  a  bride  with  her  first  husband,  and  said  he  meant  to  marry 
her  when  he  was  old  enough.  Captain  Edgar  lived  only  two 
years,  leaving  one  son,  and  then  the  young  lover  married  her. 
My  father  was  a  devoted  son,  and,  being  the  youngest  child,  his 
mother  indulged  him  excessively,  which  perhaps  was  the  reason 
that  he  never  conquered  a  quick,  flashy  temper,  which  was  his 
greatest  fault,  as  he  himself  realized.  Otherwise  he  was  a 
very  kind-hearted  man,  of  generous  impulses  arid  sensitive 
feelings. 

His  opportunities  for  learning  were  small,  but  he  improved 
them  assiduously,  spending  every  moment  he  could  command 
in  reading.  His  knowledge  of  history,  especially  American,  was 
remarkable,  for  he  had  a  clear  mind,  a  retentive  memory,  and 
warm  patriotism.* 

He  was  very  liberal  in  his  views  both  in  politics  and  religion, 
and  was  a  believer  in  Woman  Suffrage  at  a  very  early  date.  I 
must  mention  one  inconsistency,  however,  both  because  it  gave 
us  much  pain  and  because  it  is  a  curious  illustration  of  the 
times.  The  first  anti-slavery  word  that  I  ever  heard  was  from 
him.  He  said,  "  The  English  and  Americans  boast  of  being  the 
freest  nations  in  the  world,  but  the  English  impress  seamen,  and 
the  Americans  keep  slaves."  He  had  a  real  love  for  the  negroes 

*  The  story  of  one  of  the  brothers  \vlio  went  down  to  St.  John,  N.  B.,  and  there 
married  and  founded  the  family  still  living  there,  and  an  offshoot  of  which  is 
planted  and  flourishing  in  California,  is  partly  told  in  iny  story,  "The  Child  of 
the  Tide." 


BIRTH    AND    CHILDHOOD.  5 

from  early  associations,  and  felt  deeply  the  wrong  done  them, 
and  he  could  never  refuse  a  negro  who  begged  of  him.  But  he 
had  lived  through  the  times  when  the  establishment  of  the 
Union  was  the  most  earnest  desire  of  the  patriot ;  and  when  the 
cry  arose  that  "  the  union  was  in  danger,"  and  his  idol  Daniel 
Webster  strove  to  save  it  by  giving  up  everything  to  the  South, 
he  was  distracted  by  anxiety,  and  could  not  bear  that  any  one 
should  attack  slavery  lest  lie  should  pull  down  the  pillars  of  the 
Constitution  with  it.  Although  fully  in  sympathy  with  Theo-  ; 
dore  Parker's  theological  views,  he  turned  violently  against  him; 
which,  as  all  the  rest  of  the  family  were  much  attached  to  him 
was  not  agreeable  to  our  feelings.  Had  he  lived  until  the  war 
broke  up  the  fatal  delusion  that  cost  us  so  much,  he  would  have 
found  his  humanity  and  his  patriotism  on  the  same  side,  and 
.would  undoubtedly  have  been  a  most  enthusiastic  defender  of 
the  Northern  cause.  He  died  in  1850. 

My  mother  was  a  beautiful  type  of  woman.  She  preserved  to 
old  age  the  sweet,  shy  modesty  of  a  young  girl,  which  suited  well 
with  the  soft  ringlets  which  hung  around  her  face.  She  had 
good  practical  ability  and  great  tenderness  of  heart.  She  was 
anxious  and  apprehensive  by  nature,  but  when  trouble  came,  as 
it  often  did,  she  bore  it  with  a  strength  and  patience  that  always 
surprised  us. 

She  had  small  opportunity  of  education  in  a  country  town, 
but  she  was  very  fond  of  reading.  Indeed  I  can  never  remem 
ber  seeing  either  her  or  my  father  sitting  down  to  rest  without 
a  book  in  their  hands.  She  read  Byron  as  a  young  girl  when  he 
was  the  idol  of  the  hour,  and  shared  in  the  excitement  when  a 
Waverley  novel  came  fresh  from  the  press.  Her  love  for  Scott 
lasted  all  her  life ;  she  was  never  weary  of  re-reading  him,  and 
among  my  earliest  recollections  are  the  stories  she  told  of  Dandy 
Dinmont  and  Caleb  Balderstone  and  other  characters,  who 
seemed  quite  as  real  to  me  as  those  of  historic  fame.  This  taste 
continued  to  the  second  and  third  generation.  My  solitary  I 


6  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

meals  are  often  cheered  by  the  help  of  "  Ivanhoe  "  or  "  Old  Mor 
tality,"  as  by  the  presence  of  an  old  friend  who  is  always  fresh, 
and  whose  good  stories,  though  well  remembered,  we  are  still  glad 
to  laugh  at  once  more. 

A  family  who  lived  near  my  grandfather,  named  Ellery, 
moved  to  Gloucester,  Mass.,  and  in  due  time  my  mother  went  to 
make  them  a  visit,  and  enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  of  a  seashore 
life.  My  father  had  passed  through  his  apprenticeship  in 
Gloucester,  and  having  attracted  the  notice  of  Mr.  Tucker  had 
been  received  into  his  large  grocery  establishment  in  Boston, 
and  finally  set  up  in  business  by  him,  so  that  he  was  at  this 
time  in  a  fair  way  of  success.  He  formed  a  partnership  with  a 
man  somewhat  his  senior,  named  James  Pickens.  They  con 
tinued  their  connection  so  long  that  at  one  time  they  were  the 
oldest  firm  in  Boston  with  unchanged  name ;  and  one  of  the 
very  few  that  went  through  the  disastrous  panic  of  1837  with 
out  failing. 

At  the  period  of  my  mother's  visit  to  Gloucester,  the  excite 
ment  about  the  sea-serpent  was  at  its  height,  and  as  my  father 
was  always  of  an  inquiring  turn,  he  went  down  to  Cape  Ann  to 
investigate  for  himself.  He  did  not  find  the  serpent,  but  what 
many  thought  even  more  more  beguiling,  the  beautiful  young 
maiden  from  Exeter.  They  met  on  a  boating  excursion.  A 
squall  arose  and  the  young  lady,  who  was  very  timid  and  usu 
ally  very  sick,  was  frightened  out  of  the  latter  malady,  and 
wrapt  in  "  Mother  Bedell's  old  black  cloak,"  she  doubtless 
received  the  kind  attentions  of  her  new  admirer  with  silent 
gratitude. 

Exeter  at  that  time  was  a  very  strictly  Galvinistic  place.  All 
innocent  amusements,  as  dancing,  etc.,  were  frowned  upon. 
One  lady  said  her  grandmother  called  "  a  young  man  dissipated 
if  he  played  backgammon  ! "  On  Sunday  it  was  considered 
wrong  to  visit  or  take  a  walk  or  read  any  but  a  professedly 
religious  book,  or  in  short  do  anything  but  go  to  church  three 


BIRTH   AND   CHILDHOOD.  7 

times  a  day  and  keep  awake  if  possible.  At  the  same  time  the 
custom  of  social  drinking  prevailed  everywhere,  and  the  young 
men,  with  little  innocent  amusement  at  home,  were  easily  led 
into  license  abroad. 

My  parents  were  married  June  10,  1819,  and  went  to  Boston, 
where  they  boarded  for  a  short  time.  The  next  year,  however, 
they  took  a  house  in  what  was  called  Belknap  Street.  This 
street  has  a  curious  little  history,  and  as  it  may  be  swept  away 
before  this  is  read,  I  will  give  it.  It  runs  from  Beacon  Street 
to  Cambridge  Street,  and  is  divided  by  Mt.  Yernon  and  Myrtle 
Streets  into  three  parts,  which  at  that  time  pretty  well  repre 
sented  three  grades  of  society.  I  do  not  know  whether  the  name 
Belknap  was  originally  given  to  the  whole  length,  for  even  then 
the  upper  part  was  often  called  Joy  Place,  but  Belknap  was  the 
prescribed  name.  Here  were  some  of  the  finest  houses  and  most 
"  swell "  people  in  the  city.  In  the  middle  part  were  families 
of  good  standing,  and  in  this  part  was  our  house,  where  I  was 
born.  The  lower  part  was  almost  entirely  occupied  by  colored 
people,  who  streamed  by  our  house,  and  gave  us  children  that 
early  familiarity  with  this  people  which,  thank  God,  has  pre 
vented  me  from  having  any  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  "  negro 
as  a  man  and  a  brother." 

But  the  upper  ten  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  giving  their 
addresses  on  Belknap  Street  so  associated  with  the  despised 
race,  and  they  petitioned  the  city  government  to  change  the 
name  of  their  portion  to  Joy.  Of  course  the  middle  class 
are  but  too  prone  to  mimic  the  manners  of  the  rich,  and  they 
next  asked  to  have  their  portion  re-named.  It  is  a  democratic 
country,  and  therefore  the  lower  portion  of  the  street  wished 
for  its  Joy  also,  and  so  the  good  old  name  of  Belknap,  once 
belonging  to  a  worthy  divine,  was  given  up,  and  has  never  been 
used  again. 

I  was  the  third  child  and  the  last  born  in  this  house. 
When  I  hear  of  women  worn  out  with  the  cares  of  housekeeping 


8  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

I  like  to  recall  what  my  mother  did.  She  had  but  one  girl,  but 
she  was  from  Exeter  and  a  treasure  indeed,  —  Mary  Parks  ;  I  will 
give  her  what  immortality  I  can.  Mother  took  care  of  her  chil 
dren,  did  all  their  sewing  (without  a  machine),  and  was  always 
hospitable  and  generous  in  her  housekeeping.  Then  water  did 
not  run  into  the  wash-tubs,  but  often  had  to  be  brought  by 
hand  from  outside  of  the  house.  No  friction  matches,  still  less 
an  electric  spark  touched  the  gas  and  gave  you  light  on  the 
instant,  but  the  obstinate  flint  and  steel  hammered  out  the 
spark  which  must  be  caught  as  it  fell,  and  the  lamps,  filled  with 
greasy  oil,  must  be  kept  ready  for  burning.  I  do  not  think  my 
mother  ever  made  her  own  candles  as  her  mother  had  done  ; 
but  she  did  make  her  own  soap,  and  rny  father  used  to  salt 
down  a  barrel  of  pork  every  year,  and  I  remember  when  I  held 
the  lamp  for  him,  and  felt  insulted  that  he  offered  me  the  tail 
for  my  reward.  Mother  always  said  in  later  years  that  she 
felt  poor  without  her  pork-barrel. 

I  was  the  third  child,  and  curiously  enough  there  is  a  little 
doubt  about  the  day  of  my  birth.  The  old  Exeter  nurse,  Susy 
Beckett  (I  love  these  old  names),  who  knew  the  birthday  of 
everybody  in  the  families  where  she  nursed,  and  was  in  conse 
quence  a  terror  to  maidens  no  longer  in  their  teens,  always 
gave  it  as  the  27th  of  June ;  and  June  it  certainly  was,  but 
somehow  in  one  record  book  made  by  my  father,  but  at  a  much 
later  date,  it  is  registered  on  the  22d.  I  do  not  know  how  it 
happened,  but  I  think  it  must  have  been  a  slip  of  memory  or 
the  pen.  I  remember  the  discussion  about  it  when  I  was  a  child, 
and  of  course,  being  then  ambitious  to  be  old,  I  favored  the 
earlier  date.  But  my  mother,  who  was  not  likely  to  forget  such 
a  circumstance,  always  said  that  I  was  born  on  Sunday,  and  we 
found  that  Sunday  fell  on  the  27th  in  that  year ;  so  that,  having 
attained  an  age  when  a  few  more  days  of  youth  are  not  objec 
tionable,  I  have  always  since  considered  the  27th  as  the  date  of 
my  birth.  I  am  sorry  that  I  have  not  attained  sufficient  dis- 


BIRTH   AND    CHILDHOOD.  9 

tinction  to  make  this  a  delightful  puzzle  for  antiquarians.     My 
mother  died-in  1876. 

The  earliest  thing  I  can  recall  is  that  my  grandmother  took" 
my  cold  hands  in  hers  and  wrapped  them  in  her  warm  apron. 
From  circumstances  I  think  this  must  have  been  when  I  was 
two  years  old.  I  do  not  remember  our  removal  to  Hayward 
Place  when  I  was  about  that  age.  I  may  have  been  five  or  six 
years  old  when  the  use  of  anthracite  coal  was  introduced.  My 
father  was  interested  in  it,  and  when  people  declared  that  it  was 
too  difficult  to  light  and  manage,  he  answered  that  a  child  could 
do  it,  and  accordingly  taught  me  how  to  kindle  a  fire.  I  wished 
to  turn  my  knowledge  to  profit,  and  struck  a  bargain  with  the 
chamber-maid,  whose  duty  it  was  to  make  the  fire  in  mother's 
bedroom  in  the  morning,  that  I  would  make  the  fire  for  her  at 
the  price  of  a  cent  a  week.  As  this  gave  her  a  little  more  time 
to  indulge  in  bed  she  gladly  consented,  but  as  she  was  rather  a 
giddy  girl,  she  was  not  very  punctual  in  paying  me  my  small 
pittance,  for  which  I  dunned  her  so  unmercifully  that  she  would 
cry  out  to  the  cook,  "  For  God's  sake,  Ailie,  do  lend  me  a  cent  to 
pay  this  child."  All  the  kindlings  were  laid  ready  for  me,  and 
I  devoted  myself  earnestly  to  the  task,  somewhat  difficult  for  a 
child  of  that  age.  My  brother,  of  about  two  years,  would  crawl 
out  of  bed  and  as  he  had  a  little  wagon  he  would  load  it  with 
niy  wood  and  carry  it  oft'  while  I  was  busy  with  the  grate. 
Father  and  mother  would  lie  and  laugh  to  hear  my  vigorous 
remonstrances. 

I  went  to  a  school  in  the  court  kept  by  Miss  Mary  Elizabeth } 
Rebecca  Royal  Pemberton  and  her  sister  Joanna.     No  playful! 
kindergarten  was  this   school !     Miss    Pemberton  was  a   rigid 
Calvinist  who  believed  in  responsibility  and  duty  to  the  tips 
of  her  finger-nails.     Lessons  were  made  to  be  learned,  and  the ; 
business .  of  the  child  was  to  learn  them  by.  heart,  though  the 
heart  had  precious  little  to  do  with  it.     I  do   not  remember 
any  whipping  in  the  school,  but  the  common  punishment  was 


10  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH    DOW    CHENEY. 

to  blindfold  the  child  and  stand  her  in  a  corner.  A  perhaps 
harder  punishment  was  to  be  taken  home  by  the  teacher, 
and  made  to  sit  down  in  her  room  and  learn  the  neglected 
lesson,  while  the  voices  of  the  other  children  at  play  could  be 
heard.  I  did  not  love  Miss  Elizabeth,  but  her  sister  Miss 
Joanna  was  more  congenial  to  the  children.  Her  old  father 
came  in  to  teach  us  to  read,  and  his  favorite  precept  -was,  "  Read 
slowly,  and  all  other  graces  will  follow."  But  spite  of  all,  the 
training  was  excellent  in  reading,  grammar,  spelling,  arithmetic, 
and  geography.  My  next  teacher,  Mr.  Fowle,  said  "  he  had  no 
scholars  so  thoroughly  trained  as  those  from  this  school."  His 
tory  was  not  so  well  taught.  We  had  an  American  history  in 
questions  and  answers  which  mostly  consisted  of  "  Where  was 
such  a  battle  fought  and  who  beat  ? "  One  of  iny  classmates, 
Charlotte  H.,  said  one  day,  "When  I  don't  remember  who  beat,  I 
always  say, '  The  English,'  for  they  beat  the  oftenest."  "  I  don't," 
I  replied,  "  I  say,  '  The  Americans/  for  I  like  them  best." 

By  1830  we  were  a  little  group  of  five  children,  and  we  had 
pleasant  times  playing  in  the  court.  Thanksgiving  day  was 
the  great  festival,  and  after  dinner  father  always  played  games 
with  us. 

Our  greatest  pleasure  was,  however,  going  to  my  grand 
mother's  at  Exeter,  and  spending  a  month  in  summer.  The 
home  was  not  a  farm,  but  we  had  a  large  garden  and  flowers 
and  drives  and  many  country  pleasures,  and  both  grandfather  and 
grandmother  exercised  their  undoubted  privilege  of  indulging  us 
to  their  heart's  content.  I  don't  know  why  I  should  not  have 
been  a  very  happy  child,  but  somehow  I  do  not  look  back  on 
childhood  as  a  happy  time,  although  I  think  these  feelings  may 
belong  more  to  a  later  period.  I  was  shy  and  full  of  strange 
thoughts,  and  I  never  felt  as  if  anybody  understood  me.  I  was 
very  homely,  while  my  older  and  younger  sister  were  very 
pretty,  and  grown-up  people  have  an  amiable  way  of  impressing 
such  agreeable  facts  on  the  mind  of  a  child. 


BIRTH   AND   CHILDHOOD.  11 

While  we  lived  in  Hayward  Place  I  had  quite  an  adventure. 
We  were  taught  sewing  at  school.  One  day  I  lost  or  broke  my 
needle  and  the  teacher  sent  me  home  to  get  another.  I  found 
my  mother  very  busy,  and  she  chanced  not  to  have  the  right- 
sized  needle  to  give  me,  so  she  gave  me  a  cent  and  told  me  to 
go  to  a  little  store  on  Washington  St.,  kept  by  one  Hannah 
Farrar,  and  buy  one.  (Let  me  say  in  parenthesis  that  the 
common  expression  then  was  to  buy  a  quarter  of  a  hundred 
needles,  that  being  the  number  in  a  paper,  and  I  do  not  see 
how  mother  came  to  be  destitute  of  them.)  I  never  had  much 
idea  of  locality,  and  for  some  reason  mother  told  me  to  go  out 
of  the  back  door,  which  I  was  not  accustomed  to  do,  and  so  I 
turned  the  wrong  way  and  walked  on  towards  the  "  South  End," 
looking  vainly  for  the  sign  of  "  Hannah  Farrar."  I  began  to 
notice  the  changed  aspect  of  things,  for  the  "Neck"  was  then 
quite  a  rural  place,  and  at  last,  convinced  that  I  was  on  the 
wrong  track,  I  turned  around  to  go  home,  and  overcome  by 
fatigue  and  distress  I  sat  down  upon  a  door-step  and  began  to 
cry.  At  this  moment  a  young  school-boy  passed  who  recognized 
me  and  kindly  asked  what  I  was  doing  out  there  all  alone. 
When  I  sobbingly  told  him  I  had  lost  my  way,  he  said  that  if 
I  would  go  with  him  a  little  way  to  his  aunt's,  where  he  must 
do  an  errand,  he  would  then  take  me  home.  I  followed  him 
and  wras  kindly  received  by  the  aunt,  who  (tell  it  not  in  these 
temperance  days)  treated  me  to  cake  and  wine  and  sent  me 
home  quite  cheered.  In  the  meantime  the  teacher,  alarmed  by 
my  not  returning  to  school,  sent  another  child  to  make  inquiries, 
and  alarmed  my  mother.  My  pretty  sister  came  home  from 
school  and  was  despatched  to  the  stores  to  ask  if  a  little  child 
had  been  seen.  "  No,"  said  one  gallant  young  clerk,  "  but  if 
she  is  as  pretty  as  you,  she  will  soon  be  found."  My  little 
sister  came  home  crying  that  "  Neddy  had  gone  off  with  her 
luncheon,  and  she  had  n't  had  a  bit."  The  town  crier  was  sent 
for,  but  was  fortunately  absent,  so  that  I  was  saved  from  the 


12  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

ignominy  of  being  cried  about  the  town.  When  I  arrived  home 
with  my  escort  my  first  words  were  "  Mother,  1  've  got  the  cent ! " 
"  I  don't  care  anything  about  the  cent,"  said  the  half-distracted 
mother;  so  I  kept  the  cent  and  thought  I  had  made  by  the 
adventure.  The  young  boy  was  thanked  and  praised,  and  all 
manner  of  rewards  offered  him  which  he  would  not  accept,  but 
in  the  confusion  they  forgot  to  ask  his  name.  Many  years  after, 
a  young  neighbor  introduced  a  gentleman  to  me  at  a  dancing 
party,  and  when  the  set  closed,  said  to  me,  "  Do  you  know  that 
you  have  been  dancing  with  the  boy  who  brought  you  home  the 
day  you  were  lost?"  Alas  for  the  romance!  He  did  not  fall 
in  love  with  me,  I  did  not  pine  for  him,  and  so  my  childish 
adventure  was  without  consequence. 

In  describing  my  walk  over  the  "  Neck  "  I  said,  "  I  got  to 
where  there  were  gardens  on  both  sides  of  the  houses." 

Behind  Hayward  Place  and  parallel  with  it,  was  a  narrow, 
filthy  court,  called  Sweetzer's  Court,  inhabited  by  very  poor 
people.  Our  well-water  was  very  poor;  we  should  now  con 
sider  it  poisonous.  Later  we  had  the  Jamaica  Plain  aqueduct. 
Probably  it  was  owing  to  the  filth  about  us  that  we  had  the 
terrible  scourge  of  scarlet-fever.  All  the  five  children  and  my 
father  were  stricken  down  with  it.  I  remember  the  day  I  was 
taken.  We  had  for  dinner  my  favorite  pudding.  I  could  not  eat 
a  morsel.  My  poor  mother  looked  at  me  and  said,  "  You  too  !  " 
Sargent,  the  only  boy,  two  years  old,  died  first,  after  only  four 
days'  illness,  and  my  mother  took  me  to  his  side  and  said,  "Do 
you  love  your  little  brother  ? "  I  think  she  was  kind  to  let 
me  recognize  death  in  this  lovely  guise.  He  has  been  strongly 
familiar  to  me  all  my  life,  and  I  have  no  outward  terrors.  It  is 
only  the  parting  that  I  dread.  When  my  next  sister,  Sarah,  a 
singularly  beautiful  child,  died,  my  mother  followed  her  to  the 
grave  alone,  no  other  one  of  the  family  being  well  enough 
to  go. 

Our  physician,  Dr.  John  D.  Fisher,  who  was  connected  with 


BIRTH   AND   CHILDHOOD.  13 

Dr.  Howe  in  founding  the  Blind  Asylum,  was  a  most  kind, 
excellent  friend,  but  his  practice  seems  to  me  to  have  had  the 
narrowness  of  the  old  school,  almost  at  its  worst. 

The  sister  older  than  myself,  Elizabeth,  was  very  ill,  having 
dropsy  on  the  brain,  which  resulted  in  epilepsy.  This  was  a 
terrible  trial.  My  mother  said  she  had  lost  two  children,  and 
she  prayed  as  never  before  for  the  life  of  this  child ;  and,  to  use 
the  old  theologic  phrase,  it  seemed  as  if  "  her  prayer  were 
granted  in  anger,"  for  the  poor  child,  who  had  been  a  very  bril 
liant  scholar,  gradually  lost  her  memory,  and  her  life  was  sad,  and 
it  was  a  great  trial  to  all  the  rest  of  us.  It  is  very  hard  to  have 
one  child  among  others  who  is  not  amenable  to  the  ordinary 
rules  of  discipline.  We  were  not  old  or  thoughtful  enough  to 
remember  how  many  pleasures  she  was  deprived  of,  when  she 
was  allowed  to  do  things  forbidden  to  us  ;  for  the  doctor's  orders 
were  that  she  was  not  to  be  required  to  do  any  tasks,  and  we 
often  had  to  remain  with  her  when  we  wished  to  be  elsewhere. 
I  have  always  questioned  whether  her  mental  faculties  might 
not  have  been  preserved  by  more  judicious  mental  discipline, 
but  they  did  the  best  they  knew.  It  was  singular  that  while 
she  was  the  only  one  of  the  children  who  appeared  to  inherit  the 
flashy  temper  of  my  father,  she  became  very  docile,  conscien 
tious,  and  affectionate,  and  only  on  one  or  two  occasions  in 
her  life  did  she  manifest  any  violence  of  temper.  She  had  a 
great  fondness  for  arithmetic,  and  was  also  fond  of  making  puz 
zles  and  conundrums,  and  writing  verses,  which  have  no  literary 
merit,  but  are  often  touching  from  their  tone  of  feeling.  Her 
religious  feeling  was  very  sweet  and  trustful.  Although  she 
often  forgot  the  time  of  day,  or  the  day  of  the  week,  yet  on  Sun 
day  morning  she  always  appeared  with  her  Bible  in  her  hand 
instead  of  the  knitting  which  was  her  usual  employment.  Oaly 
once,  I  think,  did  she  ever  mistake  the  day.  I  never  realized  in 
any  other  person  so  fully  that  the  soul  may  live  and  grow  with 
apparently  very  little  intellectual  life.  She  lived  to  be  sixty 


14  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

years  old,  and  died  very  suddenly  in  one  of  the  usual  fits  of  her 
malady. 

One  other  incident  of  this  dread  time  is  like  a  light  in  a  dark 
cave.  There  were  no  trained  nurses  in  those  days,  and  it  was 
the  custom  for  neighbors  and  friends  to  assist  in  the  care  of  the 
sick,  "  watching  "  by  night.  I  think  mother  had  the  aid  of  an 
excellent  nurse  who  was  much  in  our  family  (Miss  Coolidge), 
but  still  with  five  or  six  patients,  some  of  them  very  ill,  her 
hands  were  more  than  full.  A  young  lady  (Miss  Ann  Wil 
liams)  came  to  her,  although  an  entire  stranger,  and  begged  and 
urged  that  she  be  allowed  to  watch  two  nights  in  the  week, 
which  she  did.  This  good  friend  spent  her  life  in  such  deeds 
of  mercy  as  gave  her  the  name  of  "  Saint  Ann."  She  lived 
long,  and  died  in  1900. 

Two  years  later,  when  I  was  eight  years  old,  came  a  great 
change.  1  do  not  know  whether  it  was  because  father  was 
impressed  with  the  unhealthfulness  of  the  location,  or  because 
mother  never  could  feel  happy  in  the  house  where  she  had 
suffered  so  much,  but  we  moved  to  a  new  house  in  Bowdoin 
Street.  It  was  one  of  a  block  of  four  houses,  still  standing, 
which  father  had  built  in  connection  with  others.  The  name 
on  the  lowest  house  door  was  Coolidge,  next  came  that  of 
his  partner  Pickeris,  next  our  own,  and  finally,  on  the  upper 
one,  Stone.  So  the  boys  used  to  amuse  themselves  by  calling 
out,  "Coolidge  Picking  Littlehale  Stones."  It  was  quite  a 
rural  part  of  the  town  then.  We  could  look  from  our  back 
upper  windows  over  "Gardner  Green's  garden"  to  the  water. 
This  land  was  soon  made  into  Pemberton  Square,  and  was  first 
a  very  fashionable  place  of  residence,  then  devoted  to  lawyers' 
offices,  and  now  mainly  to  the  Court-house.  Above  our  house 
was  open  space  to  nearly  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  the  land 
was  in  litigation  between  Bowdoin  College  (I  believe)  and 
other  heirs,  and  one  party  took  forcible  possession,  and  we  had 
quite  a  fight  there. 


BIRTH    AND   CHILDHOOD.  15 

Another  change  followed  this,  for  I  left  the  little  school  I 
have  spoken  of,  and  went  with  my  oldest  sister,  Mary  Frances, 
to  the  school  of  Mr.  Wm.  B.  Fowle,  which  was  conducted  on  the 
Monitorial  plan.  It  was  at  that  time  in  a  poor  little  temporary 
building,  where  our  ink  froze  on  our  desks,  but  was  soon  after 
removed  to  very  fine  quarters  on  the  corner  of  Temple  Place  and 
Washington  Street,  the  door  being  on  Temple  Place,  and  the 
lower  story  on  Washington  Street  occupied  by  shops, 

I  shall  not  be  able  to  brag  of  my  later  scholarship,  so  I  will  do 
what  I  can  now.  By  dint  of  Miss  Pemberton's  drill  and  a  de 
lightful  book  called  "The  little  Grammarian"  (which  I  have 
tried  in  vain  to  obtain  in  late  years),  I  had  so  thoroughly 
mastered  Murray's  grammar  that  Mr.  Fowle  exclaimed  in 
astonishment,  "  Why,  she  parses  as  well  as  the  girls  in  the  first 
class  !"  Grammar  was  Mr.  Fowle's  hobby,  and  he  had  published 
a  text-book  of  his  own,  on  a  system  which  he  considered  more 
rational  than  Murray's,  and  which  he  tried  to  teach  in  the 
school.  But  it  was  far  too  philosophical  for  such  young  minds, 
and  as  he  always  encouraged  his  pupils  to  express  their  opinions 
and  argue  with  him,  I  used  to  stand  up  stoutly  for  the  genuine 
Lindley  Murray  in  which  I  had  been  trained.  And  I  still  think 
that  the  few  simple  empirical  rules  which  lead  to  observation  of 
the  language,  are  far  better  adapted  to  the  minds  of  children  in 
our  grammar  schools,  than  the  elaborate  and  tedious  analysis  of 
such  writers  as  Greene,  which  is  far  from  satisfactory,  and  be 
wilders  the  mind  instead  of  enlightening  it.  I  think  Murray's 
grammar  was  to  the  study  of  English  language  something  like 
what  Linnaeus'  artificial  system  was  to  the  science  of  botany. 
Mr.  Fowle  was  not  a  college  graduate  and  did  not  encourage  the 
study  of  Latin,  to  my  great  regret,  as,  if  I  had  studied  it  with 
him,  I  should  have  been  thoroughly  grounded  in  it,  which  I 
never  was.  But  he  had  a  genius  for  teaching  and  made  every 
thing  clear  to  his  pupils,  and  encouraged  them  to  independent 
thinking.  He  introduced  the  study  of  Science  and  illustrated 


16         REMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH  DOW  CHENEY. 

it  by  experiments  —  and  how  hard  the  poor  man  did  work  with 
his  old  electrical  machine !  I  believe  that  I  delight  in  the 
triumphs  of  electricity  now  as  one  would  in  the  success  of  one 
he  had  known  as  a  little  feeble  baby!  He  was  before  the 
times  in  many  things.  Drawing  was  taught  in  the  school,  and 
the  celebrated  Lowell  Mason  drilled  us  in  singing.  A  dry  stick 
he  was,  and  would  never  have  been  supposed  to  be  a  lover  of 
the  divine  arts.  He  certainly  did  not  make  it  very  attractive 
to  us.  A  teacher  no  less  celebrated  in  his  line,  Monsieur 
Papanti,  gave  us  lessons  in  dancing.  Eev.  Edward  E.  Hale 
is  fond  of  claiming  that  he  was  his  first  pupil  in  Boston. 
Whether  it  was  owing  to  the  excellence  of  his  first  pupil  I  will 
not  pretend  to  say,  but  it  is  a  very  singular  fact  that  this 
foreigner  held  sway  in  Boston  for  two  and  in  some  cases  three 
generations,  as  the  only  dancing  teacher  who  was  recognized  as 
"  comme  il  faut,"  and  whom  no  changes  of  fashion  could  affect ; 
and  his  mantle  has  even  fallen  unquestioned  on  his  son.  He 
was  exceedingly  particular  in  his  drill,  and  those  who  continued 
for  years  under  his  teaching  certainly  acquired  the  art  which 
fitted  them  to  become  "ornaments  of  society."  I  was  not  a 
shining  star  in  his  firmament.  As  we  had  a  fine  large  hall  and 
a  piano,  dancing  was  frequently  our  entertainment  at  recess.  I 
suspect  that  our  school  was  the  first  to  introduce  gymnastics, 
certainly  for  girls.  We  had  parallel  bars  and  a  few  other 
exercises,  in  which  I  bore  my  part. 

The  Monitorial  system  was  then  an  important  subject  in 
educational  circles,  and  its  advocates  hoped  it  would  become  a 
part  of  the  public-school  system.  It  was  recommended  by  its 
cheapness  and  by  the  development  of  self-reliance  and  respon 
sibility  which  it  gave  to  the  young  teachers,  which  helped 
to  fix  their  lessons  firmly  in  their  minds.  But  the  elder 
pupils  complained  that  too  much  of  their  time  was  occupied 
with  simply  reviewing  what  they  had  gone  over,  and  parents 
fancied  that  their  children  did  not  get  the  influence  they 


BIRTH   AND   CHILDHOOD.  17 

might  from  older  minds.  My  oldest  sister  was  a  fine  scholar, 
and  she  and  Miss  Lucy  Gushing  were  at  one  time  the  old 
est  and  best  pupils,  having  their  seats  beside  that  of  the  head 
teacher,  and  having  control  over  the  whole  school  in  his  absence. 
Although  Mr.  Fowle  was  an  excellent  teacher,  he  was  not  a  very 
popular  man.  He  allowed  his  pupils  a  good  deal  of  freedom 
in  their  relation  to  him,  and  yet  he  was  a  strict  disciplinarian. 
His  temper  was  not  good,  and  he  sometimes  employed  what  we 
thought  "cruel  and  unusual  punishments,"  although  there  was 
nothing  like  whipping  allowed.  I  remember  one  instance  over 
which  we  held  many  an  indignation  meeting.  On  the  top  of  the 
stove  was  an  urn  which  tempted  the  girls  to  pour  water  into  it 
instead  of  going  downstairs  to  the  sink.  This  of  course  rusted 
the  iron  and  injured  the  stove.  Mr.  Fowle  had  scolded  and 
threatened  in  vain,  and  at  last  detected  a  culprit  in  the  act. 
He  took  her  hand  and  plunged  it  into  the  foul  water.  I  do  not 
know  whether  it  was  hot,  and  perhaps  he  did  not  expect  the 
result,  but  it  made  her  hand  very  sore,  and  we  always  looked 
upon  it  as  a  piece  of  great  cruelty.  Other  girls  were  seated  on 
the  front  of  his  high  desk  with  their  feet  dangling  in  the  air. 
One  I  remember  was  a  specially  saucy  rogue,  who  would  never 
betray  that  she  felt  abashed  or  ashamed  by  her  position.  But 
the  chief  method  of  reward  and  punishment  was  an  elaborate 
system  of  marks  of  merit  which  were  redeemed  in  money  at 
the  close  of  each  term.  It  was  a  very  equitable  system,  and  as 
those  who  chose  could  leave  their  money  on  deposit,  it  was  a 
good  lesson  in  thrift.  My  savings  when  I  left  school  amounted 
to  nearly  ten  dollars,  which  my  father  deposited  in  the  old 
Provident  Savings  Bank,  where  it  lay  for  many  a  long  year,  and 
I  reaped  the  benefit  of  it  many  times,  for,  if  I  proposed  to  take 
it  out  at  any  time  to  procure  some  desired  object,  my  father, 
who  considered  it  hardly  less  than  sacrilege  to  disturb  a  deposit 
in  the  savings  bank  unless  on  dire  necessity,  would  generally 
give  me  the  money  for  my  object. 


18  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

French  was  well  taught,  with  the  assistance  of  a  Frenchman 
for  conversation.  I  have  through  life  always  felt  the  difference 
of  my  knowledge  of  French  and  that  of  any  other  language 
learned  under  a  different  method  and  teacher.  I  believe  in 
drill. 

The  teaching  in  arithmetic  was  rational  and  thorough.  Col- 
burn  was  authority.  I  had  been  so  well  drilled  by  Miss  Pem- 
berton  that  I  well  remember  my  bashful  blushes  when  I  went 
to  the  head  of  the  class  above  many  big  girls,  and  Mr.  Fowle's 
saying,  "  It  is  not  you  but  they  who  ought  to  blush."  On  rainy 
days  he  had  special  exercises  to  promote  rapidity  in  calculation. 
1  was  often  first  in  time,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  often  failed  in 
accuracy.  Geography  was  my  horror,  and  to  this  day  I  would 
rather  not  have  to  know  anything  about  the  divisions  of  the 
earth's  surface,  but  enjoy  it  as  a  whole.  But  thanks,  I  suppose, 
to  those  weary  hours  spent  in  Miss  Pemberton's  room  after 
school  (how  I  hated  them),  I  was  sufficiently  posted  to  be 
monitor  over  girls  considerably  older  than  myself.  Map  draw 
ing  was  the  only  thing  that  ever  gave  me  any  real  insight  or 
pleasure  in  geography. 

Not  so  with  science,  especially  astronomy,  which  was  well 
taught  by  means  of  diagrams  which  we  must  copy  in  reduced 
size  and  explain.  I  had  no  faculty  for  anything  mechanical, 
and  Mr.  Fowle  once  said,  "  I  know  your  drawing  will  be  the 
worst,  and  your  explanation  the  best  of  the  class." 

In  one  of  his  reports,  Mr.  Fowle  says,  "  I  will  teach  algebra 
when  I  can  find  nothing  more  interesting  or  useful  for  young 
females."  As  my  father  had  the  same  prejudice,  I  have  felt  the 
want  of  algebra  all  rny  life. 

Mr.  Fowle  was  very  much  interested  in  phrenology,  and  when 
the  great  Spurzheirn  visited  the  country,  he  came  to  the  school 
and  examined  the  pupils.  He  was  much  interested  in  my  sister 
and  wished  he  might  have  the  privilege  of  educating  her. 

My  sister,  who  was  tired  of  being  the  oldest  scholar  and  chief 


BIRTH   AND   CHILDHOOD.  19 

monitor,  left  the  school,  and  Mr.  Fowle,  who  was  of  a  jealous 
nature,  could  not  forgive  it ;  I  thought  him  not  very  friendly  to 
me  afterwards,  and  I  fear  I  was  rather  saucy  to  him. 

I  begged  foolishly  to  go  to  another  school.     I  had  made  some 

acquaintance    with    Miss    C H y    (afterwards    Mrs. 

D ),  from  the  circumstance  that  her  old  grandmother  had 

taken  half  of  my  grandmother's  house,  and  we  made  a  visit 
there  together. 

I  found  her  at  this  time  very  agreeable.  We  had  literary 
tastes  and  ambitions  in  common,  and  I  was  glad  to  go  to  the 
same  school  with  her.  This  was  the  Mt.  Vernon  school,  taught 
by  Mr.  Joseph  Hale  Abbot.  He  had  been  a  professor  in  Exeter 
Academy,  and  my  mother  and  aunts  had  a  high  idea  of  his 
learning.  I  am  writing  my  own  youthful  impressions,  and  not 
a  well-reasoned  opinion  of  a  mature  woman ;  undoubtedly  he 
was  much  more  of  a  man  than  I  ever  came  to  think  him.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  he  had  very  much  of  the  knowledge 
to  be  acquired  from  books,  but  he  seemed  to  me  ignorant  of 
human  nature,  certainly  of  girl  nature,  and  he  did  not  generally 
command  the  affection  of  his  pupils.  I  could  fill  pages  with  an 
account  of  the  mischievous  tricks  that  we  loved  to  play  upon 
him.  He  used  many  "  bywords,"  which  we  would  repeat  in 
proper  connection,  but  with  an  imitation  of  his  tone  and  man 
ner  which  would  convulse  the  school  with  laughter,  and  yet 
we  could  not  be  chidden  for  imitating  our  teacher.  I  was  alone 
in  the  study  of  Spanish,  and  had  a  very  sentimental  love-story 
to  read.  Instead  of  the  usual  sing-song  manner  of  translation, 
I  would  read  it  with  proper  dramatic  emphasis,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  listening  school. 

We  were  allowed  to  have  a  school  paper  called  "  The  Casket," 
for  which  we  wrote  a  great  deal,  while  we  grumbled  over  the 
weekly  composition.  The  editor  had  the  right  of  rejection  of 
articles.  The  anti-slavery  discussion  was  then  raging,  and  some 
of  us  determined  to  write  articles  upon  it.  Our  editor  was  a 


20  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW  CHENEY. 

charming  girl,  Katy  W (I  love  to  give  these  dear  old 

names),  belonging  to  a  conservative  family,  and  she  refused  to 
read  the  pieces.  We  held  an  indignation  meeting  and  threatened 
to  appeal  to  Mr.  Abbot,  but  in  the  midst  of  it  word  was  brought 
that  Katy  was  crying  on  the  staircase ;  our  feelings  overcame 
our  passions,  and  we  rushed  out  in  a  body  to  kiss  and  console 
her. 

At  this  time  Amasa  Walker  made  a  brave  address  on  Wom 
an's  Rights  at  the  Lyceum.  My  sister  and  I  worked  out  some 
very  prosaic  stanzas,  which,  I  believe,  were  printed  in  the 
"  Transcript."  As  school-girls,  of  course,  we  must  have  a  finger 
in  every  pie,  and  the  discussion  became  so  warm  in  the  school 
as  to  interrupt  the  lessons.  Mr.  Abbot  therefore  gave  us  leave 
to  hold  a  meeting  in  the  school-room  in  the  afternoon.  Caroline 

H ,  since  so  able  an  advocate  of  the  cause,  then  opposed  it, 

while  I  strongly  advocated  it.  The  day  was  set,  but  when  the 
hour  came  for  me  to  go,  a  little  sick  sister  had  fallen  asleep  in 
my  arms,  and  I  would  not  disturb  her  even  to  fulfil  my  engage 
ment.  Imagine  the  jeers  to  which  I  was  exposed,  —  Caroline 
declaring  that  this  settled  the  whole  question,  that  a  woman 
could  not  and  should  not  vote ! 

I  felt  that  this  school  was  not  good  for  me.  I  went  over  much 
ground  in  the  languages,  history,  and  even  science,  but  super 
ficially,  and  I  did  not  get  the  kind  of  intellectual  training  in 
thoroughness  and  accuracy  that  I  needed.  The  moral  influence 
was  not  good,  although  Mr.  Abbot  was  a  conscientious,  upright 
man,  but  I  was  in  constant  antagonism  to  constituted  authori 
ties,  which  was  a  lesson  not  particularly  needed.  At  last  I  was 
conscious  of  it,  and  begged  to  leave  school,  but  I  do  not  think  my 
parents  understood  the  case  and  they  did  not  grant  my  wish. 
Then  Mr.  Abbot  finally  called  on  mother  and  wished  me  to  leave 
school,  as  my  influence  was  so  strong  on  the  other  scholars,  and 
he  thought  not  beneficial.  I  dare  say  he  was  right,  for  I  cer 
tainly  did  not  strengthen  his  authority.  One  of  our  teachers 


BIRTH   AND    CHILDHOOD.  21 

was  Dorcas  Smith,  afterwards  Mrs.  Murdoch,  our  drawing 
teacher.  She  was  a  woman  of  fine  intelligence  and  high 
character,  and  all  the  girls  loved  her.  Her  methods  of  teaching 
drawing  were  very  different  from  those  now  employed,  but 
they  were  genuine  and  not  tricky  at  all.  I  went  so  far  as  to 
paint  miniatures  in  water  colors  on  ivory,  but  they  were  quite 
worthless.  After  I  left  school  I  went  for  some  years  to  her  for 
private  lessons.  I  think  the  only  one  of  my  schoolmates  who 

has  become  very  interesting  to  the  public  is  Mrs.  D .     I  had 

much  regard  for  her.  She  had  a  sincere  love  of  goodness  and 
has  worked  earnestly  for  humanity,  and  I  believe  that  the 
world  is  the  better  for  her  having  lived  in  it.  I  once  expressed 
to  Mrs.  Murdoch  my  regret  that  I  had  not  gone  to  Mr.  Emer 
son's  school  instead  of  Mr.  Abbot's.  "You  would  probably 
have  been  a  better  scholar,"  she  replied,  "  but  I  think  you  would 
not  have  developed  so  well  what  you  value,  independence  of 
thought."  So  much  for  school  days;  now  for  education. 


22  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 


CHAPTER   II. 

GIRLHOOD. 

Dream  no  more,  thy  young  life  is  fleeting, 
Linger  no  longer  sweet  visions  repeating ; 
High  rides  the  sun  of  life,  high  aims  pursuing, 
Leave  now  thy  couch  of  rest,  up  and  be  doing. 

TN  1840  my  father  and  mother  took  my  older  sister  and  myself 
on  a  journey.  Eailroads  were  still  quite  a  novelty.  We 
went  to  Springfield  by  rail,  and  then  we  went  down  the  Con 
necticut  to  Hartford  in  a  little  steamboat,  which  appeared  to 
draw  about  two  inches  of  water  and  slid  easily  over  the 
underlying  rocks  that  rippled  the.  shallow  stream.  I  then  saw 
more  of  the  historic  relics  of  Hartford  than  I  ever  have  since. 
We  went  to  the  State  House  and  saw  the  old  Charter,  and 
visited  the  Charter  Oak,  which  I  afterwards  walked  round  with 
Theodore  Parker,  who  took  his  hat  off  in  reverence.  It  was 
blown  down  a  few  years  later,  and  I  have  a  piece  of  the  wood. 
Thence  we  went  to  New  Haven  and  to  New  York  by  boat  and 
stayed  at  the  Astor  House,  which  was  then  a  wonder  of  hotel 
splendor.  We  proceeded  to  Trenton  Falls,  which  I  enjoyed  to 
the  uttermost,  although  I  almost  frightened  my  mother  out  of 
her  senses  by  going  up  by  the  side  of  the  river  to  the  very 
farthest  possible  point.  We  were  obliged  to  go  by  stage  to 
Eochester  on  the  old  Lake  or  Shore  Koad,  as  it  was  called,  and 
I  was  much  disappointed  to  find  that  it  by  no  means  followed 
the  shore  of  the  lake,  but  was  inland,  hot  and  dusty.  It  was 
the  year  of  the  election,  when  the  country  was  roused  for  the 
defeat  of  Van  Buren  and  the  Democratic  party,  whose  financial 


GIRLHOOD.  23 

measures  had  proved  so  disastrous  to  the  business  of  the  country, 
and  the  people  flocked  to  log  cabins  to  drink  hard  cider  and 
sing  songs  for  "  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too ! "  Their  prayers 
were  heard  with  a  vengeance,  for  they  got  a  great  deal  more 
of  "Tyler  too"  than  they  found  comfortable.  We  found  the 
log  cabins  in  the  daytime  often  a  welcome  refuge  from  the 
heat.  A  week  in  Niagara  satisfied  my  longings,  and  we  went 
to  Buffalo  for  a  day,  where  we  saw  General  Scott  review  some 
troops.  He  was  then  in  the  prime  of  life  and  a  magnificent 
man,  looking  every  inch  a  soldier.  "VVe  crossed  the  lake,  which 
brought  the  first  experience  of  sea-sickness,  and  then  the  beauty 
of  the  Thousand  Isles,  where  the  fishermen  spearing  salmon  by 
torch-light  recalled  Scott's  wonderful  description  in  "  Guy  Man- 
nering,"  with  which  I  was  already  familiar.  The  steamboats 
did  not  then  shoot  the  Lachme  rapids,  and  we  were  obliged  to 
take  the  stage  and  pass  around  them  in  the  night  —  a  weary 
journey !  I  remember  how  my  heavy  head  would  droop  upon 
my  mother's  shoulder.  Of  Montreal,  I  remember  little  but  the 
French  service  in  the  Cathedral  and  a  visit  to  the  convent  of 
the  gray  nuns ;  but  Quebec  was  very  impressive  from  being  the 
first  walled  city  I  had  ever  seen,  and  which,  of  course,  recalled 
many  of  the  scenes  I  had  read  of,  more  in  romance,  I  suspect, 
than  in  sober  history.  My  father,  who  was  a  most  patriotic 
lover  of  American  history,  asked  a  native  to  tell  him  the  spot 
where  Montgomery  fell,  and  was  much  amused  to  be  answered : 
"  Montgomery  —  oh,  yes,  the  shoemaker  !  He  lives  in  the  next 
street."  We  came  down  Lake  Champlain  and  crossed  Vermont 
by  stage  on  the  once  famous  Gulf  Road,  which  was  so  smooth 
that,  having  here  met  the  Boston  papers,  I  read  them  aloud  to 
the  company  eager  for  the  news.  The  most  interesting  item  to 
me  was  the  announcement  of  the  projected  fair  for  the  com 
pletion  of  Bunker  Hill  Monument. 

I  was  too  young  to  take  an  active  part  in  it,  but  my  friend 
Cornelia  Walter,  who  was  some  years  older,  was  active  in  it.     I 


24  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

may  as  well  speak  here  of  these  two  friends,  Mr.  Lynde  Walter, 
the  founder  of  the  "  Boston  Transcript,"  and  his  sister,  who 
for  some  years  took  the  editorial  charge  of  it,  then  a  position 
almost  unheard  of  among  women.  Mr.  Walter  was  a  man  of 
high  culture  and  gentlemanly  traits.  His  mother  was  of  English 
descent,  and  of  the  old  Tory  school,  and  a  fine  specimen  of  a 
true,  good-hearted,  but  aristocratic  and  highly  prejudiced,  woman. 
The  father  was  very  gentle  and  genial.  Mr.  Lynde  Walter  was 
very  kind  to  us  girls,  and  I  believe  that  the  last  time  he  ever 
went  out  was  to  escort  his  sister  and  myself  to  see  the  Fourth 
of  July  fireworks.  He  was  suffering  very  much,  and  his  mother 
begged  him  to  stay  at  home ;  but  he  would  not  "  disappoint  the 
girls."  I  remember  how  amusing  and  bright  he  was  all  the 
evening.  He  was  taken  very  ill  immediately,  and  at  one  time 
his  death  was  confidently  reported ;  and  as  the  news  went  over 
the  Union,  and  could  not  then  be  corrected  by  telegraph,  he  had 
the  pleasure  of  reading  his  own  obituary  notices.  He  lived  four 
years,  confined  almost  entirely  to  his  bed.  It  was  as  his  assis 
tant  that  Cornelia  began  her  editorial  work  which  proved  so 
successful.  She  was  a  very  warm-hearted,  impulsive  woman, 
but  had  also  great  good  sense  and  executive  ability,  and  seldom 
made  a  blunder.  She  took  the  stand  of  frank  and  impartial 
criticism  of  the  lectures  and  other  amusements  of  the  day,  and 
it  made  her  notices  much  more  regarded  than  the  mere  puffs  of 
other  papers.  At  one  time  Henry  Norman  Hudson  was  strug 
gling  to  get  a  hearing  for  his  lectures  on  Shakespeare.  His 
audiences  were  pitifully  small.  She  took  me  to  hear  him  and 
asked  me  to  write  the  notice.  I  used  few  words  of  praise,  but 
told  what  he  said,  quoting  some  brilliant  passages.  The  next 
night  the  audience  was  much  increased.  I  continued  in  this 
way,  and  when  the  short  course  of  six  lectures  closed,  the 
audience  was  large,  and  unanimously  invited  Mr.  Hudson  to 
give  another  course.  My  copy  of  Charles  Lamb  is  a  gift  of 
gratitude  from  Mr.  Hudson.  A  queer  man  he  was,  full  of  wit 


GIRLHOOD.  25 

and  keen  penetration  in  literary  matters,  but  not  wholly  agree 
able,  for  be  was  opinionated  and  self-conceited  and  full  of  re 
actionary  prejudices.  As  I  was  in  the  full  glow  of  anti-slavery 
and  radical  feeling,  of  course  we  often  differed  greatly.  He 
became  an  Episcopal  minister  of  the  highest  church,  I  think, 
and  I  once  heard  him  preach.  It  was  very  funny  to  hear  him 
take  the  Scripture  characters,  Martha  and  Mary,  and  analyze 
them  just  as  he  did  Shakespeare's  heroines.  It  was  keen  and 
very  entertaining,  but  did  not  impress  me  as  devotional. 

One  anecdote  of  old  Mrs.  Walter  is  characteristic  of  the  spirit 
of  the  times.  Mr.  Parker's  South  Boston  sermon  had  just  been 
preached  and  was  severely  condemned  by  all  conservatives. 
Miss  Walter  was  reading  it  to  her  sick  brother,  when  her  mother 
came  into  the  room  and  listened  for  a  while.  "  Whose  sermon 
is  that  ? "  she  asked.  "  It  is  by  a  Mr.  Parker,"  answered  her 
daughter.  The  name,  then  unfamiliar,  did  not  strike  her  atten 
tion,  and  she  asked,  "  To  what  sect  does  he  belong  ? "  Not  wish 
ing  to  shock  her,  her  daughter  replied,  "  I  think  they  call  him 
a  Spiritualist."  "I  should  think  so,"  said  the  good  old  lady, 
"for  it  is  the  most  spiritual  thing  I  ever  heard."  When  she 
heard  what  sermon  it  was,  she  was  very  indignant  at  having 
been  led  to  praise  it,  and  when  I  asked  her  daughter  to  go  with 
me  to  hear  Mr.  Alcott  she  said  :  "  No,  —  she  shall  have  nothing 
to  do  with  it ;  it  is  the  most  insidious  doctrine  in  the  world." 

But  I  must  go  back  to  1840.  How  we  shouted  and  sang  for 
the  great  Whig  convention,  and  thought  the  country  was  safe 
and  all  right  when  Harrison  was  elected  !  And  how  soon  was 
our  joy  changed  into  mourning  by  his  death.  I  remember 
wearing  mourning  for  him.  At  that  time  we  had  a  little 
manuscript  journal  called  "  The  Mount  Vernon  Eeview,"  which 
we  passed  from  hand  to  hand.  I  drew  a  portrait  of  Harrison, 
surrounded  by  mourning  lines.  We  had  great  fun  with  this 
magazine,  for  Mr.  or  Miss  Walter  would  occasionally  soberly 
notice  it  in  the  "  Transcript "  and  criticise  the  articles,  and 


26  REMINISCENCES    OF    EDNAH    DOW    CHENEY. 

numerous  would  be  the  inquiries  after  this  will-o'-the-wisp  that 
could  never  be  found.  I  do  not  know  that  any  of  its  writers 
have  ever  been  placed  on  the  scrolls  of  Fame ;  but  I  give  it  its 
brief  notice.  I  was  rather  elated  when  Mr.  Walter  took  a  little 
poem  of  mine,  "  The  Morning  Star,"  for  the  "  Transcript." 

About  this  time  I  first  remember  a  singular  and  interesting 
friend  of  my  mother's  who  exercised  some  influence  over  my 
development.  This  was  Mary  Ann  Haliburton.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  bank  officer  in  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire ;  one  of 
those  men  of  much  intellect  and  wit  and  large  amateur  literary 
acquirement  who  have  the  reputation  that  they  might  have  been 
great,  only  unfortunately  they  are  not.  Whether  he  remained 
only  a  bank  cashier  all  his  life  from  indolence,  or  want  of 
ambition,  or  from  what  cause,  I  know  not;  his  daughter  used 
to  compare  him  with  Goethe  and  other  great  men.  She  had 
a  quick,  lively  mind,  fine  conversational  power,  and  an  earnest 
interest  in  humanity.  She  was,  however,  sensitive  and  very 
desirous  of  admiration  and  affection  ;  but  her  fine  powers  were 
not  trained  and  disciplined  either  by  home  or  school.  She  had 
an  intense  love  of  beauty,  and  while  she  had  a  fine  figure  and 
graceful  carriage,  to  plain  features  and  a  very  prominent  nose 
was  added  the  crowning  mortification  of  a  squint  eye.  She 
would  joke  about  her  infirmities,  keenly  as  she  felt  them,  and 
used  to  say  that  when  walking  in  the  street  she  would  hear 
young  men  say,  "  There  's  a  fine  figure  —  let 's  see  her  face." 
"  But  I  always  took  care,"  she  said,  "  to  keep  my  face  well 
hidden."  It  was  a  current  saying  that  "she  was  an  angel  to 
follow,  but  a  devil  to  face,"  which  was  as  true  in  regard  to  her 
temper,  also,  as  epigrams  are  apt  to  be.  Her  grandmother  lived 
next  door  to  my  grandfather,  and  when  she  visited  her  she  saw 
my  mother,  a  little  younger  than  herself.  Tradition  runs  that 
as  Mary  Ann  looked  through  the  separating  fence  she  said  : 
"  Are  you  Ednah  Dow  ?  I  know  you  by  your  curly  hair ; "  and 
that  my  mother  replied :  "  Are  you  Mary  Ann  Haliburton  ?  I 


GIRLHOOD.  27 

know  you  by  your  squint  eye."  In  spite  of  this  impolite 
answer,  the  children  became  friends,  and  mother  enjoyed  her 
visits  to  Portsmouth,  and  in  later  years  had  great  intellectual 
pleasure  from  this  bright  companion,  who  had  leisure  for  the 
study  and  literary  society,  for  which  our  large  family  gave 
but  little  time. 

One  point  iii  her  history  is  instructive.     Her  mother  died 
early,  and   while  a  young   girl   in   society  Mary   Ann   had  a 
delightful  life  with  her  intellectual  and  indulgent  father.     But 
it    was   said   that   she   did  not  so   fully  provide   for   physical 
comforts  as  middle-aged  men  are  wont  to  require,  and  at  any 
rate  he  married  a  woman  much   his  inferior   in  culture,  and 
whom   he    had   often   ridiculed.      I   never   knew   this   person 
except  from  Mary  Ann's  report,  but  I  have  heard  that  she  was 
a  good  average  woman.     Yet  it  was  quite  natural  that  Mary 
Ann  should  not  take  kindly  to  the  relation.     At  last  she  came 
to  the  resolution  to  leave  home  and  support  herself  by  teaching 
drawing,  for  which  she  had  some  talent.     But  she  had  a  brother 
then  in  business  in  New  York,  who  was  scandalized  at  the  idea 
that  his  sister  should  work  for  her  support.     He  offered,  if  she 
would    give   up   this   idea,   to    pay   her  yearly   four   hundred 
dollars,   that   she   might    live   where   she   pleased.      She   had 
enough  of  the  same  kind  of  aristocratic  feeling  to  accept  the 
offer;   and   so,  instead  of  leading  an  independent   life,   which 
would  have  called  out  her  energies,  disciplined  her  character, 
and  brought  her  into  affectionate  relations  with  young  people,  she 
spent  her  life  in  cheap  boarding-houses,  trying  one  scheme  after 
another  to  make  something  like  a  home,  for  which  the  natural 
conditions  did  not  exist.     When  this  brother  died  he  left  her 
only  an  annuity  of  seven  hundred  a  year,  giving  the  bulk  of 
his  large  fortune  to  a  step-brother,  who  (it  was  supposed)  he 
thought  would  keep  up  his  name  in  business.     This  property 
was  invested  in  stocks,  and  during  the  inflated  period  of  the 
war  time,  the  dividends  were  large,  and  yet  she  received  only 


28  REMINISCENCES   OF   ^DNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

the  stated  sum  —  paid  in  currency,  which  had  sometimes  not 
the  purchasing  power  of  one  half  the  amount  in  gold.  I  always 
thought  it  a  great  wrong,  which  could  have  been  avoided  by 
payment  in  gold. 

She  had  many  quaint  sayings  which  became  proverbs  among 
her  circle.  One  was  that  she  wished  she  had  been  born  a 
widow  with  one  child ;  for  she  thought  it  was  the  most  "  in 
dependent  position  for  a  woman." 

I  am  greatly  indebted  to  her,  not  only  for  a  great  deal  of 
intellectual  stimulus  and  many  pleasant  acquaintances  and 
social  enjoyments,  but  especially  that  she  introduced  me  to 
two  of  the  most  precious  friends  of  my  life,  of  whom  I  shall 
speak  later,  —  Margaret  Fuller  and  Mary  Shannon. 

I  have  not  kept  a  very  strict  chronological  order  as  things 
rise  in  my  mind  ;  but  I  wish  to  speak  now  of  a  subject  covering 
several  years  of  this  forming  period.  I  was  not  brought  up 
under  severe  religious  influences,  but  still  I  heard  something 
of  the  prevailing  Orthodox  theology,  and  as  I  was  an  omnivorous 
reader,  when  I  was  with  my  Aunt  Hannah  at  Exeter  I  read  her 
books  on  Sunday,  because  I  could  not  get  any  others.  When  I 
was  eight  years  old  my  little  baby  sister  was  very  ill,  so  that  the 
old  family  nurse  was  summoned.  At  evening  I  recognized  her 
danger  and  feared  that  she  would  die  ;  but  I  went  to  bed  early 
at  mother's  wish.  I  had  read  much  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer, 
and  I  poured  out  my  heart  fervently  to  God  for  the  life  of  the 
dear  baby,  and  went  to  sleep  confident  that  my  prayers  would 
be  answered  and  the  child  would  live.  I  woke  in  the  morning 
and  found  the  old  nurse  lying  beside  me.  I  knew  what  it 
meant,  —  for  she  would  not  have  left  her  charge  if  alive,  —  and 
a  terrible  shock  of  sorrow  and  loss  of  faith  came  over  me.  I 
remember  our  minister  spoke  of  my  grief  as  something  extraor 
dinary  in  so  young  a  child.  I  have  wondered  if  this  mental 
shock  did  not  have  something  to  add  to  it. 

My  father  was  a  Gloucester  Universalist,  and  they  were  not 


GIRLHOOD.  29 

very  strict  in  religious  regulations ;  still,  we  had  a  respectful 
observance  of  Sunday.  I  remember  that  we  would  not  say  on 
Sunday,  "  Let 's  play  keep  house,"  but,  "  Let 's  make  believe  keep 
house  !  "  "  Make  believe,"  did  not  seem  inappropriate  to  Sun 
day,  but  play  was  sinful.  I  can  remember  reproachfully  check 
ing  myself  if  I  chanced  to  hum  a  secular  tune.  Father  used  to  read 
the  Bible  to  us  on  Sunday  afternoons,  and  he  often  related  that 
when  he  read  the  passage  about  God's  commanding  the  Israel 
ites  to  borrow  jewels  of  their  Egyptian  neighbors  before  going 
into  the  wilderness  never  to  return,  I  looked  up  into  his  face, 
and  said,  "  Father,  was  that  right  ? "  It  was  a  solemn  decision 
to  make,  on  the  instant,  between  the  authority  of  the  Bible  and 
a  child's  own  sense  of  right.  He  did  not  hesitate,  but  said, 
"  No,  my  child,  it  was  not."  This  was  a  beginning  of  education 
and  of  confirmed  trust  in  my  father  that  was  worth  a  great  deal. 
I  do  not  know  why,  when  Dr.  Holley,  who  had  been  my  father's 
favorite  pastor,  left,  he  did  not  continue  to  his  successor,  John 
Pierpont ;  but  my  first  remembrance  of  meeting  was  at  the 
church  on  Church  Green,  and  Mr.  Young  was  the  pastor.  He 
was  not  attractive  to  children,  and  my  first  remembrance  of 
going  to  meeting  twice  a  day  is  of  unmitigated  dulness  and 
ennui,  which  above  all  things  I  hated.  The  walk  thither  through 
pleasant,  shady  Summer  Street,  and  "Winter  Street,  then  the 
abode  of  doctors,  whose  signs  we  regularly  counted,  was  pleas 
ant  enough ;  but  the  cold  of  winter  pinched,  after  sitting  still 
so  long.  I  pricked  my  finger  and  wrote  in  letters  of  blood  in 
the  hymn-book,  or  I  chewed  my  gloves,  or  did  any  tiling,  to 
while  away  the  time,  rejoiced  indeed  when  a  hymn-book  fell 
from  the  gallery,  or  there  was  any  disturbance  of  the  wearisome 
monotony  of  the  sermon.  By  and  by  a  Sunday  School  was 
established,  with  a  library,  and  my  wise  mother  used  to  allow 
me  to  read  my  book  during  the  sermon,  to  the  great  relief  of 
all  my  neighbors.  My  teacher  was  Miss  Bradley.  She  read 
the  Bible  to  us  in  order,  for  which  I  am  indebted  to  her.  I 


30  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY, 

always  enjoyed  the  reading  of  the  Bible  and  the  hymns  in 
church.  I  must  record  the  gratitude  of  the  children  to  dear 
old  Dr.  Lowell,  whose  sermons  were  always  short —  seldom 
more  than  twenty  minutes. 

But  when  I  was  some  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old,  I  began 
to  enjoy  meeting  very  much.  I  had  no  enthusiasm  for  Mr. 
Young;  but  he  was  a  fine  historical  scholar,  and  his  sermons 
were  often  interesting.  He  excelled  in  funeral  discourses  and 
was  fortunate  in  having  several  distinguished  men  in  his  con 
gregation,  so  that  he  was  said  to  be  "good  to  blow  the  last 
trump."  His  discourse  on  Dr.  Bowditch  was  over  two  hours 
long,  and  yet  held  the  attention  of  the  audience  completely. 
He  had  a  difficulty  in  pronouncing  the  letter  R,  and  of  him  was 
told  the  famous  speech  which  I  doubt  not  is  made  to  do  service 
for  many  a  successor  in  that  impediment.  Meeting  the  Presi 
dent  of  Harvard  College,  he  said,  "I  hear  you  had  quite  a  wow 
the  other  day."  To  the  President's  astonished  look  he  explained, 
"  A  wow,  a  wiot,  a  wumpus,  a  tvebellion  !  "  I  myself  heard  him 
say,  "  Chawity  we  have,  it  is  twue,  but  not  the  ehawity  which  is 
victowious  over  pwide."  He  was  very  conservative,  and  much 
disturbed  at  the  vagaries  of  Transcendentalism.  He  once  said 
in  a  sermon,  "  Pwove  all  things,  hold  fast  to  that  which  is  twue, 
but  for  God's  sake,  hold  fast  to  something." 

When  I  was  about  twelve  and  thirteen  years  old,  I  spent 
much  time  in  the  summer  with  my  aunt  at  South  Berwick, 
Maine.  I  had  much  time  for  reading  there,  and  uncle  had  a 
good  collection  of  books.  Here  I  read  all  Miss  Edgeworth's 
novels,  — good  reading  for  a  young  mind.  I  found  a  congenial 
companion,  and  we  used  to  sit  up  in  a  willow  tree,  and  read 
Hamlet ;  or  in  some  leafy  bower  act  plays  of  our  own  devising. 
My  uncle  was  a  Unitarian  and  used  to  go  to  Dover  to  meeting. 
I  loved  to  accompany  him,  and  here  first  knew  Rev.  John 
Parkrnan,  who  became  much  later  a  valued  friend.  I  may 
here  mention  a  dearly  loved  friend,  Mary  Lowe,  of  Dover.  I 


GIRLHOOD.  31 

spent  much  time  with  her,  both  in  Dover  and  in  Exeter,  where 
she  passed  much  of  her  time  with  her  uncle,  Judge  Smith. 
The  Judge  was  my  first  distinguished  acquaintance,  and  my 
father  told  me  so  once,  and  that  he  wanted  me  to  remember 
that  great  men  of  whom  I  read  (biography  was  always  my 
delight)  were  just  as  easy  and  unpretending  and  delightful  as 
he.  He  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  commended  me  for  .using  a 
dictionary.  His  second  wife,  whom  he  married  late  in  life,  was 
at  once  a  highly  accomplished,  and  most  truly  religious  and 
benevolent  woman.  The  house  was  the  perfection  of  a  pleasant 
home,  and  young  people  were  ever  welcome.  Mrs.  Smith  had 
a  happy  way  of  bringing  to  her  young  visitor  some  charming 
book  which  she  recommended,  thus  leaving  her  free  to  read, 
when  so  inclined  or  the  hostess  was  busy.  Their  only  son, 
worthy  even  of  such  parents,  is  again  Judge  Smith,  Dean  of  the 
Cambridge  Law  School.  Mary  Lowe  was  very  unlike  me,  for 
she  was  gentle,  shy,  and  unambitious,  although  very  beautiful, 
and  having  many  admirers  ;  but  we  loved  each  other  with 
perfect  trust.  When  she  died,  only  this  year  (1894),  I  could 
truly  say  that  our  friendship  had  known  no  break  for  over  fifty 
years.  I  have  never  known  a  purer,  sweeter,  truer  woman. 
She  married  Dr.  Swett,  of  Boston. 

In  1838  the  head  of  Exeter  Academy,  Dr.  Abbot,  resigned, 
and  there  was  a  grand  festival  in  his  honor.  This  was  the 
occasion  of  my  meeting  Daniel  Webster  in  private  for  the  only 
time.  He  had  not  then  lost  his  place  in  my  reverence,  and  as 
my  father  was  most  devoted  to  him,  of  course  he  was  the  idol 
of  my  admiration.  As  he  was  a  trustee  of  the  Academy,  Judge 
Smith,  who  was  its  President  invited  him  to  dinner,  and  Mrs. 
Smith,  knowing  my  admiration,  kindly  invited  me  to  come  and 
see  the  lions.  The  Judge  lived  in  handsome  but  simple  style, 
and  no  trained  waiters  could  then  be  hired,  so  it  was  arranged 
that  Mary  Lowe  and  a  granddaughter  of  Judge  Smith  should 
wait  upon  the  table.  I  have  never  forgiven  myself  for  my 


32  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAII    DOW    CHENEY. 

stupidity  that  I  did  not  think  to  ask  permission  to  help  them ; 
it  would  have  been  much  better  fun  than  sitting  silent  at  table 
among  the  grandees,  especially  as  Mr.  Webster  said,  "  We  are 
waited  on  by  angels."  I  had  a  bow  and  an  introduction,  and 
then  waited  eagerly  for  the  words  of  wit  and  wisdom  to  flow 
from  the  oracle  ;  but,  whether  because  our  hostess  was  a  tem 
perance,  woman  I  know  not,  our  oracle  was  rather  dumb,  and  I 
only  heard  some  remarks  upon  cheese,  which  were  not  interest 
ing  to  me.  At  the  meeting  the  next  day  the  Lion  was  himself 
again,  and  very  eloquent.  I  never  was  fortunate  enough  to 
hear  one  of  his  great  speeches.  I  heard  him  only  in  Lyceum 
lectures,  which  did  not  give  full  scope  for  his  powers,  although 
his  address  was  always  impressive,  and  his  lecture  full  of  valu 
able  information.  I  remember  one  occasion  when  he  spoke  on 
the  "Constitution."  The  lecture  contained  many  important 
historical  statements  and  much  logical  reasoning ;  but  it  was 
entirely  unrelieved  by  any  ornamental  illustration,  still  less  wit 
or  humor,  and  quite  unsuited  to  the  general  capacity  of  the 
somewhat  youthful,  not  to  say  frivolous,  audiences  that  usually 
gathered  at  the  Lyceum.  The  audience  listened  with  respect 
—  for  Daniel  Webster  spoke  —  but  they  were  evidently  rather 
bored.  He  was  succeeded  by  James  T.  Fields,  then  a  young 
poet  full  of  lively  aspiration,  and  tolerably  well  satisfied  with 
his  own  work,  who  jauntily  delivered  a  bright  poem  full  of 
pleasant  jokes  and  local  allusions,  which  woke  up  the  audience, 
and  sent  them  away  feeling  that  they  had  had  a  delightful 
evening  with  the  great  men.  One  of  his  lines  in  his  compli 
ments  to  the  orator  was  : 

"  Who  follows  Webster  takes  the  field  too  late." 

I  mourned  deeply  over  Webster's  subserviency  to  the  slavery 
oligarchy,  and  it  was  most  painful  to  see  his  baleful  influence 
on  the  conscience  of  the  North.  When  he  made  his  famous 
7th  of  March  speech,  E.  P.  W said  in  my  presence  that 


GIRLHOOD.  33 

he  would  rather  Webster  had  put  a  pistol  to  his  brains  than 
to  have  him  utter  such  words ;  yet  in  a  few  days  he  was 
apologizing  for  it,  and  defending  him.  I  heard  Theodore 
Parker's  wonderful  sermon  on  Webster,  in  which  he  remembered 
all  the  nobility  of  his  early  utterances  and  all  the  kindly  traits, 
his  love  of  nature  and  his  interest  in  all  classes  of  men,  but  also 
brought  out  in  strong  characters  the  change  in  his  later  words, 
and  the  moral  deterioration  which  had  grown  so  rapidly  from 
the  first  yieldings  to  temptation.  As  he  was  speaking,  the  snow 
which  lay  in  a  great  mass  on  the  old  Melodeon  suddenly  slid 
from  the  roof  with  a  noise  like  thunder.  The  audience,  already 
roused  to  excitement,  were  thrilled  by  the  sound,  but  in  a 
moment  Mr.  Parker  said,  "  Would  that  the  infamy  might  so  slide 
off  from  his  character."  Mr.  W was  asked  to  write  a  bio 
graphical  notice  of  Mr.  Webster  for  a  liberal  review  in  England 
(I  think  the  "  Westminster  ").  He  wrote  with  his  usual  ability, 
but  omitted  all  mention  of  Mr.  Webster's  connection  with  pro- 
slavery  measures.  The  English  editor,  feeling  this  to  be  an 
important  omission,  inserted  a  long  extract  from  Parker's  ser 
mon  covering  this  point.  It  was  said  that  Mr.  W 's  cheer 
ful  visage  was  not  seen  as  freely  about  town  as  usual  that 
week. 

I  may  as  well  speak  here  of  my  early  Exeter  life,  for  it  was 
characteristic  of  an  Academy  town.  We  always  made  a  visit 
there  in  summer,  and  as  a  child  it  was  paradise  to  me.  I  was 
very  fond  of  my  grandparents  and  my  aunts,  and  I  found  play 
mates  and  friends.  Once  we  stayed  all  summer  and  I  went  to 
a  little  school ;  and  I  remember  with  gratitude  that  our  teacher 
used  to  bring  in  a  large  pitcher  of  molasses  and  water  and 
ginger  to  refresh  us  in  the  forenoon  recess.  This  was  then  a 
very  common  drink,  and  it  is  a  very  good  substitute  for  stronger 
stimulants.  My  grandfather,  like  most  of  the  moderately  well- 
to-do  people,  took  Academy  boarders,  and  as  we  grew  older  we 
thus  came  to  form  acquaintance  with  the  other  sex  on  very 


34  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

pleasant  familiar  terms.  On  the  annual  exhibition  day  the 
•ladies  trimmed  the  Academy  hall  with  evergreen,  and  even  the 
children  were  allowed  to  assist  in  tying  up  bunches  of  ground 
pine.  But  at  last  I  arrived  at  the  honorable  age,  about  twelve, 
I  think,  when  I  was  regularly  invited  by  the  committee  of 
students  to  aid  in  the  work  and  attend  the  exercises,  and  as  he 
boarded  at  grandfather's,  the  salutatory  orator,  Edward  Eeed,  was 
appointed  my  escort.  I  think  that  I  never  felt  prouder  of  any 
honor  than  I  did  of  walking  up  the  aisle  leaning  on  his  arm.  I 
had  already  read  romance  and  poetry,  and  he  made  an  excellent 
hero  for  my  youthful  imagination,  and  I  sat  by  the  window  next 
day  and  watched  his  departing  figure,  deliciously  miserable,  in 
approved  style.  Mother  used  to  say  we  girls  "  came  out "  at 
Exeter,  and  went  in  again  when  we  returned  to  Boston.  I 
should  have  said  that  I  was  not  very  much  given  to  flirtation 
in  my  youth ;  but  a  bundle  of  rny  old  letters  lately  returned  to 
me  and  covering  a  period  of  from  thirteen  years  old  to  mature 
life  seem  to  bear  testimony  against  me  that  I  was  a  very  silly 
girl.  I  had  no  serious  love  affairs,  however,  and  was  never 
much  tempted  to  them,  for  I  never  was  a  favorite  with  young 
men  in  general,  nor  a  belle  at  dancing-parties,  which  I  honestly 
think  was  the  great  reason  that  I  hated  them,  for  I  loved  the 
exercise  well  enough.  I  had,  however,  come  to  care  very  much 
for  other  things,  of  which  I  shall  presently  speak. 

It  must  have  been  in  1840  that  I  went  to  a  ball  given  in  honor 
of  the  Prince  de  Joinville,  the  -son  of  Louis  Philippe.  I  was 
very  unwilling  to  go,  but  mother  insisted  upon  it.  Among 
other  reasons  against  it  was  the  fact  that  I  had  an  allowance  of 
one  hundred  dollars  for  my  clothes,  and  I  very  much  grudged 
the  money  for  a  white  silk  dress.  It  was  a  brilliant  ball ;  but 
I  had  a  stupid  time,  for  I  had  no  partner  except  one  poor  youth 
who  knew  nobody  else,  and  was  introduced  to  me  by  some 
business  friend  of  father's.  We  always  felt  the  want  of  a 
brother  on  such  occasions,  as  father  was  not  a  society  man,  and 


GIRLHOOD.  35 

we  had  no  one  to  escort  us ;  but  my  sister  was  pretty  and 
attractive  enough  to  have  plenty  of  attention  on  her  own  ac 
count.  My  only  very  pleasant  recollection  is  of  Anna  Shaw 
(since- Mrs.  William  B.  Greene),  who  was  then  in  the  perfection 
of  her  youthful  beauty.  With  her  flowing,  light  curls  and  her 
soft,  white,  muslin  gown  like  an  angel's  drapery,  she  was  a  per 
fect  vision  of  beauty  which  always  remains  with  me. 

While  on  this  subject  of  youthful  gayeties  I  want  to  pay  a 
brief  tribute  of  respect  to  Dr.  Dix,  the  oculist,  for  his  kindness 
to  forlorn  young  women  at  parties.  Like  the  poet  Shelley,  he 
would  not  confine  his  attentions  to  those  who  were  pretty  and 
popular,  but  would  take  pains  to  see  that  no  one  was  wholly 
neglected. 

Another  sorrow  had  come  into  the  household  from  the  death 
of  a  dear  little  sister  about  two  years  old.  Oh  !  how  little  did 
I  then  appreciate  the  sweet  patience  of  my  mother,  who  bore 
these  repeated  losses  without  complaint,  never  wrapping  the 
home  in  a  cloud  of  gloom,  but  encouraging  us  in  our  pleasures 
when  her  own  heart  must  have  been  aching  so  heavily.  We 
always  said  that  mother  had  something  of  the  Indian  in  her 
nature,  —  none  of  his  cruelty,  certainly,  but  much  of  his  patient 
endurance  of  suffering,  and  also  his  long  memory  of  injuries, 
which  she  did  not  retaliate,  but  could  not  forget. 

The  first  and  most  severe  depression  of  business  I  knew 
occurred  about  1837.  It  was  attributed  to  the  measures  of 
the  Democratic  party.  Parties  were  extremely  bitter,  and 
personal  abuse  was  constantly  heard.  Even  in  my  childish 
remembrance  I  was  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  prejudice 
against  the  Democratic  party  of  that  day.  I  think  it  was 
the  most  violent  and  disastrous  of  all  the  evil  financial  times 
I  have  ever  known. 

My  father  never  brought  his  business  troubles  into  the  family 
circle,  but  his  last  support  gave  way  when  he  heard  that  the 
Boston  banks  were  suspended.  Money  was  utterly  demoralized, 


36  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

wild-cat  notes  were  passed  through  all  hands,  and  the  paper  of 
the  most  worthless  banks  was  received  readily  among  the  people. 
My  father's  position  alone  stood  firm  in  his  line  of  business 
every  other  house  failed.  He  had  prudently  drawn  in  sail 
before  the  storm  came  on,  but  it  was  even  worse  than  he 
apprehended. 

I  remember  one  instance  of  the  bitter  feeling  which  even 
affected  the  children.  Eobert  Rantoul  was  very  unpopular,  as  a 
Democrat  and  also  as  a  reformer,  especially  active  in  the  tem 
perance  cause.  The  alliteration  in  his  name  always  struck  my 
ear  unfavorably,  and  I  thought  of  him  as  the  worst  man  in  the 
State.  When  I  accidentally  overheard  a  cousin  of  father's  in 
tending  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Eantoul  I  wondered  how  she  could 
visit  such  a  wicked  person.  In  after  years,  when  I  mingled  in 
reform  circles,  I  learned  to  estimate  Robert  Rantoul  as  one  of  the 
truest  and  noblest  patriots  of  the  State. 

There  is  a  curious  change  in  amount  and  character  of  school 
vacations  since  my  young  days  which  deserve  attention.  Four 
weeks  in  August  were  considered  ample  enough  to  refresh  our 
brains  for  the  year's  study,  and  our  holidays  were  restricted  to 
very  few.  Two  sessions  a  day  were  the  usual  custom,  but  Wed 
nesday  and  Saturday  afternoons  were  granted  free.  Thanks 
giving  Day  was  allowed  for  the  following  Friday  and  Saturday, 
to  digest  the  festival,  and  besides  these  were  the  annual  Fast 
Day,  now  only  of  the  past,  the  Fourth  of  July,  which  was  more 
commonly  called  Independence  Day,  and  'lection  days,  of  which 
more  hereafter. 

The  following  letter  is  so  vivid  a  picture  of  old  Boston  in 
my  youth  that  I  have  asked  permission  to  reproduce  it  in  my 
"  Reminiscences."  I  only  add  that  at  that  time  there  was  a 
general  kindly  feeling  towards  the  negroes,  mixed  with  some 
contempt,  but  no  harshness.  Through  many  experiences  they 
have  conquered  the  respect  of  our  citizens.  I  remember  that 
Garrison,  non-resistant  as  he  was,  petitioned  for  the  right  of 


GIRLHOOD.  37 

colored  men  to  bear  arms,  and  Charles  Summer  was  very  active 
in  securing  the  co-education  of  both  people,  which  has  been  a 
triumphant  success. 

LETTER  FROM  FREDERICK  W.  G.  MAY. 

69  ADAMS  ST.,  DORCHESTER,  MASS. 

May  7th,  1902. 
MRS.  EDNAH  D.  CHENEY, 

Forest  Hills  St.,  Jamaica  Plain. 

DEAR  LADY:  In  the  days  to  which  you  refer,  the  State  Election  was 
held  on  the  last  Wednesday  in  May,  at  which  time,  I  think,  was  the 
general  muster  of  the  militia,  especially  the  new  levies;  for  every  male 
from  18  years  up,  if  able-bodied,  was  liable  to  do  more  or  less  mili 
tary  duty ;  and  to  make  this  as  acceptable  as  possible  to  the  public, 
numerous  independent  military  companies  were  formed,  such  as  the 
New  England  Guards,  the  Boston  Light  Infantry,  the  Kifle  Rangers, 
the  Pulaski  Guards,  the  Fort-Hill  Artillery,  and  others,  arid  the  "  Sea 
Fencibles,"  a  redoubtable  body  of  sea-faring  men  and  ship-captains. 
Holidays  were  very  few  in  those  days ;  and  those  Election  days  were 
the  most  notable  ones,  saving,  perhaps,  the  national  holiday,  —  the 
Fourth  of  July.  I  should  say  that  Election  day  was  not  a  legal 
holiday.  I  am  quite  sure  that  Independence  was,  —  but  would  you 
believe  it,  my  father's  store  was  open  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  early 
morning  of  Independence  Day,  on  the  considerate  suggestion  that  the 
drivers  of  the  huge  country  wagons  which  might  have  arrived  at  the 
"  Port,"  or  Charlestown  Square,  over  night,  might  slip  over  to  town 
and  deliver  their  orders  and  lay  their  plans  for  the  return  freight, 
etc.  !  There  were  no  railroads  in  those  days.  And  by  common 
consent  the  afternoon  of  Ancient  and  Honorable  Election  day  was 
given  as  a  half  holiday  to  the  clerks  and  employes ! 

Indeed,  it  was  everybody's  day ;  and  emphatically  the  colored 
people's.  They  appeared  in  great  force  from  what  was  known  as 
"  Nigger  Hill,"  of  which  you  cannot  fail  to  know  even  more  than 
I  do. 

The  wooden  fence  of  the  Common  from  Park  Street  corner  to  and 
beyond  West  Street  was  lined  with  booths  and  stalls  where  eatables 
and  drinkables  were  exposed  for  sale  by  white  and  colored  salesmen 
and  saleswomen.  Even  oysters  by  the  saucerful  at  fo'pence-ha'penny 
(4J  d.,  six  and  a  quarter  cents)  found  eager  buyers ;  lobsters  too,  and 


38  KEMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

candy  by  the  ton,  it  seemed  to  my  young  eyes,  cakes  in  variety, 
doughnuts,  ginger-nuts,  lemonade,  spruce  beer,  ginger  beer,  etc. 

One  specially  delightful  feature  was  the  ambulatory  stall.  It  was 
an  ordinary  hand-cart,  —  or  I  should  say  they  were,  for  there  were  many 
of  them,  — the  common  hand-cart  then  being  almost  the  only  medium 
of  conveyance  of  heavy  or  coarse  merchandise  between  the  strong, 
rough  wheelbarrow  and  the  "  Boston  long-tailed  truck  ;  "  the  express 
wagon  being  a  comparatively  modern  institution ! 

This  refreshment  cart  was  furbished  up  and  fitted  with  a  tilt  or  hood 
to  shield  its  delicacies  from  sun,  dust,  etc. ;  inside  were  boxes  and 
shelves  with  the  innumerable  cakes  that  the  well-bred  baker  then 
could  furnish,  buns  with  actual  currants  on  them,  molasses  ginger 
bread,  sugar  gingerbread,  jumbles,  waffles,  and  I  know  not  what  else, 
—  seed  cakes,  I  can  see  and  smell  them  now,  PRESIDENT  BISCUIT,  etc. 
But  these  carts  could  literally  cover  the  field  as  the  tide  of  mimic  war 
ebbed  and  flowed.  The  shows  innumerable,  the  camera  obscura,  de 
lightful  exhibitions — I  wonder  whither  they  have  all  gone!  These 
laudable  chariots  carried  baked  beans  and  similar  necessities  of  Boston- 
Beverly  life,  —  brown  broad  hot,  etc., — their  proprietors  and  motive 
power  being  genial  old  darky  ladies  with  genuine  wool,  etc.,  and  gay- 
colored  head  handkerchiefs  in  the  latest  Southern  style.  This  was 
Nigger  'lection,  —  the  colored  people  very  much  in  evidence. 

But  on  the  first  Monday  of  May  came  Artillery  Election,  when  the 
Ancient  and  Honorable  Artillery  had  their  annual  dinner  and  marched 
to  the  Common,  there  to  elect  officers  for  the  ensuing  year  in  presence 
of  the  Governor,  who  "took  his  seat  (a  chair)  on  the  Common"  and 
presided  over  a  "drum-head  election."  It  was  on  this  august  occasion 
that  it  was  considered  the  proper  thing  for  the  white  boys  to  run  the 
colored  ones  off  the  Common. 

The  State  Election  now  occurs  in  November,  and  the  Legislature 
meets  on  the  first  Wednesday  of  Januar}7. 

This  is  now  a  thing  of  the  past,  but  the  Ancient  and  Honorables 
still  keep  up  their  anniversary. 

My  memory  of  Nigger  'lection,  you  see,  is  that  of  a  very  young 
boy  and  wholly  dissociated  from  any  election  as  such.  It  was  simply 
"  'Lection  Day,"  about  as  near  to  a  country  muster  as  a  city,  of  even 
so  moderate  a  size  as  Boston  then  was,  could  compass,  but  the  dear 
old  "  Common  "  made  a  great  deal  possible  that  could  n't  be  effected  in 
most  other  such  places. 


GIRLHOOD.  39 

As  I  was  born  in  1821, 1  was  born  in  the"  Town  of  Boston,"  as  was 
the  "  Provident  Institution  for  Savings  in  the  Town  of  Boston  "  in 
1816,  and  Samuel  May,  my  father,  was  one  of  the  original  corporators. 
In  one  sense  I  could  say  "  pars  fui  "  but  minima  pars,  so  1  am  con 
scious  that  my  memory,  long  unransacked  for  that  callow  period,  has 
probably  got  much  tinged  by  later  experiences.     Thus  traditions  are 
arranged  and  arrayed,  I  suppose.     Forgive  my  diffusiveness  ! 
Cordially  your  obed't  servant, 

(Signed)  FRED.  W.  G.  MAY. 

It  is  worth  remembering,  that  for  several,  if  not  many  years, 
the  colored  citizens  of  Boston  celebrated  the  anniversary  of 
the  act  of  the  British  Parliament  by  which,  in  1833,  slavery 
in  the  colonies  of  Great  Britain  was  abolished.  A  procession 
bearing  British  and  American  flags  traversed  the  streets,  greeted 
by  the  cheers  of  fun-loving  youngsters. 

Christmas  Day  was  not  in  favor  with  our  ancestors,  and  a 
record  remains  of  the  General  Court  in  1659  against  "  observing 
Christmas  either  by  forbearing  of  labor  or  by  feasting."  In  my 
youthful  days  Christmas  was  kept  only  by  Episcopalians,  except 
by  some  little  playful  remembrance,  as  putting  up  the  stockings 
for  St.  Nicholas,  and  perhaps  listening  to  the  pattering  of  his 
sleigh  on  the  roof.  When  I  attended  Mr.  Abbot's  school,  for  the 
first  time  we  petitioned  for  the  privilege  of  Christmas,  which 
was  granted. 

Now  Christmas  has  become  an  almost  universal  holiday,  and 
the  German  custom  of  the  Christmas  tree  robs  our  forests  of 
many  a  fair  ornament  which  only  blossoms  for  a  day,  but  might 
remain  a  blessing  for  a  generation. 

New  Year's  Day  was  rather  a  favorite  with  old  Boston, 
although  not  a  legal  holiday.  It  was  an  important  business 
day  for  settling  up  the  accounts  of  the  year,  and  the  New  York 
custom  of  making  calls  was  never  established  here.  But  friends 
exchanged  gifts  and  many  people  had  family  parties.  It 
has  always  been  a  cherished  day  to  me,  when  the  sun  mounts 


40  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

up  and  the  long  cheerful  days  begin.     It   is   one  of  Nature's 
great  days. 

At  the  present,  vacations  in  the  summer  range  from  about 
nine  weeks  in  the  public  schools,  to  fifteen  or  sixteen  weeks  in 
the  private  schools,  and  about  three  months  in  the  colleges  and 
universities.  Besides  these  relaxations  Saturdays  are  usually 
omitted.  The  Christmas  vacation  often  extends  to  a  fortnight. 
Washington's  and  Lincoln's  birthdays  are  school  festivals.  Fast 
Day  is  changed  to  commemorate  the  patriotic  day  on  April  19, 
and  Bunker  Hill  on  June  17.  One  or  two  weeks  are  usually 
given  in  the  spring,  or  at  Easter  week.  Commemoration  Day 
keeps  the  memory  of  the  heroes  of  the  war  in  May,  and  Labor 
Day  is  celebrated  in  September. 

So  long  are  the  summer  vacations  that  now  we  come  back  to 
the  early  days  of  winter  and  summer  schools,  as  formerly  to 
accommodate  the  farmer  boys,  and  numerous  vacation  or  summer 
schools  are  arranged  in  country  towns  or  mountain  or  sea 
resorts. 

So  far  has  the  rage  for  vacation  prevailed  that  our  late  dis 
tinguished  teacher,  Mr.  Gushing,  wittily  said  that  if  he  wished 
to  make  a  new  school  popular  he  should  advertise  that  it  should 
be  all  vacation. 


EARLY   FRIENDS.  41 


CHAPTER    III. 

EARLY  FRIENDS. 

I  would  for  my  life  a  fragrant  garland  twine, 
And  each  living  flower  should  be  almost  divine  ; 
Of  sweet  human  flowers  mv  wreath  I  would  compose, 
And  with  the  silver  cord  of  Love  I  would  bind  it  close. 

TN  speaking  of  the  early  time,  I  wish  to  mention  a  set  of  young 

men  whom  we  used  to  call  "the  clique,"  men  of  brightness 
and  literary  ability,  who  made  a  most  pleasant  addition  to  our 
society. 

I  was  first  introduced  to  James  T.  Fields  as  a  young  poet; 
and  his  handsome  dark  hair  and  eyes,  ready  wit,  Byronic  collar, 
and  fluent  speech  well  answered  the  description,  —  one  of  the 
most  kindly  and  genial  of  men,  who  as  author  and  publisher  did 
great  service  to  our  infant  literature,  although  his  advice  to 
Louisa  Alcott  was :  "  Go  back  to  your  sewing,  for  you  will  never 
make  a  success  with  your  pen." 

E P W had  no  pretensions  to  beauty,  but  his 

fine  knowledge  of  literature,  his  keen  critical  sense  and  great 
powers  of  conversation,  made  him  a  delightful  companion. 

T G was  the  Adonis  of  the  circle  :  black  curling  hair, 

not  in  those  days  shaved  to  the  crown  like  a  monk's,  with  a 
dark,  rich  complexion,  soft,  melting  eyes,  and  a  voice  with  pro 
found  tragedy  and  tender  sweetness  in  it,  gave  him  an  almost 
irresistible  fascination  for  the  moment,  until  you  learned  that 
your  friends  had  enjoyed  the  same  tender  pressure  of  the  hand, 
and  the  same  demonstrative  glance  of  the  eye.  He  had  remark 
able  ability  in  imitating  celebrated  actors,  especially  Booth,  and 


42  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAI1   DOW   CHENEY. 

filled  you  with  horror  as  he  recited  tragic  pieces.  Starr  King  said 
of  him  that  he  was  "  almost  a  genius  —  not  quite."  He  was  very 
fond  of  Art,  but  devoted  the  early  part  of  his  life  to  business  ; 
beginning  Sculpture  when,  perhaps,  nearly  forty  years  of  age. 
He  achieved  some  success,  however,  his  most  distinguished  work 
being  the  statue  of  the  King  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  now  at 
Honolulu. 

Starr  King  established  his  own  character  and  fame  so  fully 
that  I  need  say  nothing  of  him,  except  how  very  much  we  en 
joyed  his  companionship,  as  we  met  him  at  Gloucester  and 
elsewhere. 

But  one  of  the  most  peculiar  persons  was  a  young  lawyer, 

H W ,  whose  life  might  "  point  a  moral,"  if  not  "  adorn 

a  tale."  I  first  met  him  when  he  was  a  schoolboy  at  Exeter 
Academy,  but  afterward  lost  sight  of  him,  until  one  evening  he 
joined  a  cousin  who  was  visiting  me,  while  walking  home  Irom 
an  Emerson  lecture.  He  belonged  to  a  very  fine  anti-slavery 
circle  in  Maine,  and  was  at  that  time  intimate  with  people  of 
the  same  character  in  Boston,  and  apparently  full  of  zeal  and 
earnestness  in  all  good  things,  a  great  lover  of  literature,  and 
having  an  inexhaustible  store  of  entertaining  anecdote.  I  have 
known  him  to  stand  for  an  hour  after  he  had  risen  to  go,  telling 
one  witty  anecdote  or  joke  after  another.  I  am  indebted  to 
him  for  my  first  acquaintance  with  Shelley,  Burke,  Coleridge, 
and  many  other  good  authors.  At  that  time  he  was  very  gentle 
and  kind  in  his  manner,  and  very  helpful  and  sympathetic  in 
trouble.  After  the  dark  days  came,  a  lady  said  of  him,  "  I  can 
never  forget  his  kindness  to  my  poor,  dead  children."  I  also 
felt  it  at  the  time  of  my  dear  little  sister's  death.  I  do  not 
know  how  much  he  ever  accomplished  in  his  profession,  but  his 
social  talent  made  him  welcome  in  many  circles.  I  think  the 
demon  of  social  ambition  took  possession  of  him,  and  he  began 
to  seek  and  gain  admittance  among  those  who  did  not  share  the 
reform  views  in  which  he  had  been  brought  up.  He  perhaps 


EARLY   FRIENDS.  43 

never  failed  to  admire  Emerson,  and  often  exerted  himself  to 
get  up  lectures  for  him,  but  he  could  join  in  the  sneering  tone 
which  he  heard  from  George  Hillard,  and  other  men  of  that 
stamp.  I  am  disposed  to  repeat  an  anecdote  which  I  had 
printed  elsewhere,  to  illustrate  this  change.  He  was  at  my 
mother's  at  a  party  one  evening,  the  day  after  Mr.  Emerson  had 

given  his  lecture  on  Memory.     Mrs.  H ,  a  friend  of  his,  and 

I,  were  sitting  on  the  sofa  talking  about  it,  when  he  came  up  to 
'us  and  said :  "  Oh  !  that  was  all  very  fine,  very  pleasant,  but 
what  did  it  all  amount  to  ?  I  can't  remember  anything  he  said, 
can  you?"  "Yes,"  I  replied;  "he  said,  '  Shallow  brains  have 
short  memories.'  "  He  good-naturedly  replied,  "  I  might  have 
known  I  should  get  that  from  you."  But  the  poison  worked 
still  deeper ;  he  deserted  the  old  anti-slavery  standard,  and  his 
former  friends ;  and  when  the  fugitive  slave,  Sirnms,  was  carried 
away,  he  rose  early  in  the  morning  to  be  one  of  the  guard  to 
see  him  safely  off,  lest  he  should  be  rescued. 

I  know  little  about  his  professional  life,  except  that  he  seems 
to  have  undertaken  the  office  of  securing  pensions  for  the  sol 
diers,  and  we  were  very  much  amused  at  his  offering  his  services 
to  my  mother  to  secure  her  one.  My  father  was  a  member  of 
the  old  Xew  England  Guards,  who  were  called  out  to  defend 
the  ''Constitution"  when  she  was  on  the  stocks  in  Charlestown, 
during  the  war  with  England.  The  soldiers  had  a  merry  time, 
with  no  prospect  of  danger.  My  father  lived  to  be  sixty-three 
years  old  in  good  health,  and  got  his  full  reward  for  his  services 
in  the  pleasure  he  had  in  telling  stories  about  his  only  military 
service  ;  so  his  destitute  widow  and  orphans  never  made  any 
claim  on  a  grateful  country. 

Mr.  W 's   whole  demeanor  changed  after  the   change  in 

his  principles.  He  became  rude  and  overbearing  to  his  acquaint 
ances  of  earlier  times.  But  I  was  indeed  startled  when  I 
heard  that  he  had  attempted  to  commit  suicide,  and  that  his 
pecuniary  affairs  were  in  a  wretched  condition,  involving  the 


44  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

property  of  some  of  his  truest  friends.  Through  the  kindness 
of  his  brother,  he  appeared  to  retrieve  his  circumstances.  He 
afterward  married ;  but  I  knew  little  of  his  later  life,  until  the 
papers  announced  that  he  had  disappeared  from  a  Fall  Eiver 
boat,  for  which  he  had  taken  a  ticket,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  he 
has  never  been  heard  from  again. 

Another  friend  did  not  exactly  belong  to  the  "  clique,"  but 
was  a  prominent  member  of  our  circle ;  this  was  a  young  Uni 
tarian  minister,  James  Richardson  by  name.  He  was  a  man  of 
rare  powers,  quick  fancy,  and  lively  and  sympathetic  feelings. 
It  was  quite  in  vain  to  be  angry  with  him,  for  he  charmed  your 
animosity  by  his  wit,  his  sympathetic  kindness,  arid  his  imper 
turbable  good-nature ;  but  his  organ  of  fiction  was  largely 
developed  and  in  full  activity,  and  his  readiness  to  sympathize 
with  everybody  else  prevented  his  having  any  very  fixed  stand 
ards  of  his  own.  He  was  very  readily  welcomed  by  the  parishes, 
and  won  all  hearts  at  first  by  his  charming  qualities.  A  very 
frank  woman  asked  me,  when  he  was  settled  in  her  native  town, 
if  he  was  perfectly  truthful.  I  rather  evaded  the  question,  and 
she  afterward  said,  "  You  did  n't  answer  my  question  the  first 
time  I  asked  you,  and  by  the  next  time  I  saw  you,  I  had  no 
need  to  ask  you." 

Samuel  Johnson  used  to  call  him  the  "flying  prophet;"  but 
he  went  through  life  shedding  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  and 
happiness  around  him,  and  making  friends  even  of  those  who 
saw  his  faults  most  plainly.  When  the  war  broke  out,  James, 
who  had  never  done  any  fighting  in  his  life,  joined  the  army  as 
a  common  soldier.  His  commander  had  the  good  sense  to  see 
that  he  would  not  excel  in  that  capacity,  but  employed  him 
first  on  clerkly  duty,  and  then  he  was  sent  to  the  hospitals. 
Here  he  was  in  his  element ;  he  sympathized  with  the  suffering 
men,  wrote  their  letters,  told  them  stories,  sang  them  hymns  or 
songs,  and  diffused  his  own  spirit  of  hope  and  good  cheer 
throughout  the  wards.  He  took  the  fever  at  last,  and  died  in 


EARLY   FRIENDS.  45 

his  calling.  "  Nothing  in  his  life  became  him  like  the  leaving 
of  it." 

LETTER  FROM  MARY  SHANNON. 

CINCINNATI,  May  23,  1863. 

And  among  the  rest  came  James  Richardson.  We  were  delighted 
to  meet,  most  especially  at  that  time  when  fresh  incidents  were  coming 
constantly  from  the  battlefield.  Mr.  R.  is  in  his  true  sphere  and 
doing  a  world  of  good  going  to  and  from  the  battle-field —  hunting  up 
the  lost  or  missing  —  writing  letters  for  the  wounded  and  dying  — 
getting  back-pay  for  the  poor  soldiers  —  assisting  the  widow  and 
fatherless  to  obtain  pensions.  In  fact  he  is  doing  a  little  of  every 
thing.  He  sends  me  some  of  the  most  thrilling  letters  from  parents, 
where  they  willingly  gave  up  their  sons'  lives  for  the  good  of  their 
country.  James  Richardson's  face  is  radiant  with  sympathy  and 
love.  He  is  indefatigable  in  his  labors.  * 

In  the  Harvard  Divinity  School  I  had  several  interesting 
acquaintances.  I  especially  cherish  one  young  man,  George  Pen- 
ner  from  Providence.  He  gave  great  promise  in  thought  and 
poetry,  as  his  one  little  volume  of  poems  shows,  and  he  became 
a  minister  in  Cincinnati ;  but  he  died  early  of  consumption. 

George  \Vm.  H was  not  counted  among  my  friends,  but 

his  extraordinary  career  was  well  fitted  to  serve  "  a  moral."  He 
was  of  Southern  origin,  and  of  remarkably  handsome  person, 
and  fascinating  manners.  He  wrote  poems,  and  especially 
hymns,  of  extreme  beauty  and  high  spirituality,  several  of 
which  were  adopted  into  popular  hymn-books,  and  became 
favorites  of  devout  worshippers.  But  he  was  utterly  unfaithful 
to  his  loves,  and  he  was  equally  untruthful  and  dishonest  in 
his  general  character.  Before  the  opening  of  the  Civil  War, 
when  he  was  in  London,  he  wrote  an  excellent  essay  on 
Slavery,  which  was  quoted  with  admiration  in  Congress.  But 

*  An  interesting  memoir  of  him  appeared  in  the  Harvard  book  which  recorded 
the  lives  of  the  graduates  who  entered  the  Union  army. 


46  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

at  the  beginning  of  the  war  he  had  returned  to  Charleston, 
S.  C.  The  Confederates  arrested  him  as  an  abolitionist,  but  while 
he  remained  in  prison  he  was  surrounded  with  admiring  women, 
who  sent  him  beautiful  flowers.  He  was  released  from  prison, 
and  returned  to  New  York,  where  he  wrote  for  the  "  New  York 
World."  It  was  supposed  that  he  was  discharged  that  he  might 
do  greater  service  in  the  Confederate  cause  by  his  work  at  the 
North  than  at  the  South. 

His  checkered  course  ran  from  being  picked  up  from  the 
gutter  in  New  York,  and  being  arrested  for  theft  in  the  same 
city,  to  the  most  favored  circles  in  England  and  America  which 
his  talent  opened  to  him.  He  wronged  many  women,  and 
cheated  many  men,  but  finally  married.  I  have  lately  heard 
that  he  was  fortunate  in  his  marriage,  and  sincerely  mourned 
by  his  widow.  He  afterwards  travelled  and  lectured  in  Cali 
fornia.  He  was  a  most  impressive  instance  of  great  charm  and 
high  talent,  with  even  spiritual  insight,  but  of  the  most  base 
character,  such  as  I  have  often  heard  of  in  novels,  but  the 
only  one  with  whom  I  ever  came  in  contact.  He  was  recog 
nized  as  Densdeth  in  Winthrop's  remarkable  story  of  "  Cecil 
Dreeme." 

Among  the  interesting  friends  of  my  girlhood  was  John  P. 
Hale,  of  Dover,  New  Hampshire,  a  relative  of  my  friends,  the 
Hales  and  Lowes.  He  was  a  young  lawyer  of  most  genial  and 
warm-hearted  nature,  burly  in  appearance  and  frank  in  speech 
and  manner.  He  had  enjoyed  the  lively  pleasures  of  youth, 
and  begun  his  career  in  politics  as  a  promising  Democrat  in 
New  Hampshire.  The  Rev.  John  Park  man  was  then  settled 
over  the  Unitarian  church  in  Dover;  he  saw  in  this  young 
lawyer  the  promise  of  much  higher  service  to  humanity  than 
a  Democratic  politician  would  render,  and  he  sent  to  him 
regularly  Garrison's  paper,  "  The  Liberator."  Mr.  Hale  read 
it  first  out  of  respect  to  his  pastor,  but  soon  became  deeply 
interested  in  the  anti-slavery  views,  and  insisted  upon  paying 


EARLY   FEIENDS.  47 

the  subscription  himself.  From  that  time  he  became  an  active 
friend  of  the  slave,  and  after  a  warm  contest  against  the  Dem 
ocratic  candidate,  he  was  finally  sent  to  Congress,  where  he 
took  a  brave  stand  against  the  slave  power.  When  taunted  by 
another  member,  that  he  stood  alone  in  his  views,  his  manly 
reply  was,  "  I  came  here  to  stand  alone."  Although  so  strongly 
opposed  to  them,  his  genial  manners  and  kind  heart  made  him 
a  favorite  with  the  other  members.  My  own  introduction  to  him 
was  characteristic  and  amusing.  I  was  introduced  at  a  party 
in  Dover,  and  the  conversation  fell  upon  Bulwer's  "  Zanoni,"  a 
novel  then  much  in  favor  with  us  young  transcendentalists. 
We  talked  earnestly  about  it,  and  at  last  he  led  me  up  to  his 
wife,  and  introduced  me,  saying,  "Here  is  a  young  woman  who 
thinks."  We  became  warm  friends  arid  correspondents,  but  I 
have  unfortunately  lost  his  few  letters.  I  heard  him  speak  in 
defence  of  the  rioters  who  rescued  Shadrach,  the  only  time  I 
ever  went  into  a  court-room.  He  was  nominated  by  the  Lib 
erty  party  for  President,  but  of  course  did  not  gain  an  election. 
I  remember  well  one  excellent  piece  of  advice  which  he  gave 
us  when  my  father  died.  He  said  to  my  sisters :  "  My  dear 
girls,  I  suppose  you  think  it  is  impossible  that  you  will  ever 
quarrel  about  money,  but  I  beg  of  you  to  have  everything 
settled  in  as  thoroughly  business-like  manner  as  if  you  were 
perfect  strangers,  and  then  you  will  always  keep  good  friends." 
We  followed  his  advice ;  my  older  sister  settled  the  estate 
without  a  mistake  of  a  dollar  in  the  accounts,  and  we  have 
never  had  any  money  troubles  in  the  family. 

The  last  time  I  saw  Daniel  Webster  was  in  Mr.  Hale's 
company.  Mr.  Hale  was  then  staying  with  us,  at  the  time  of 
the  celebration  of  the  introduction  of  the  Cochituate  water  into 
Boston  ;  Mr.  Healy,  the  painter,  had  his  large  picture  of  "  Web 
ster's  reply  to  Hayne  in  the  Senate,"  on  exhibition  in  the 
Athenaeum  building  on  Beacon  Street.  Mr.  Hale  and  I  went 
up  to  see  it,  and  found  Mr.  Webster  there  with  the  artist,  who 


48         REMINISCENCES  OF  EDXAH  DOW  CHENEY. 

was  explaining  the  picture  to  him,  and  of  course  surrounded 
by  an  admiring  crowd.  As  Mr.  Hale  was  then  decidedly  in 
opposition  to  Mr.  Webster,  he  did  not  care  to  join  the  crowd, 
and  we  went  up  to  the  front,  close  to  the  railing  which  sur 
rounded  the  picture.  Suddenly  Mr.  Healy  proposed  to  Mr. 
Webster  to  come  forward,  and  see  the  details  of  the  picture 
more  clearly,  and  before  we  were  aware  of  it  we  were  so 
closely  shut  in  by  the  crowd  that  we  could  not  escape,  and  I 
was  within  a  yard  or  two  of  Mr.  Webster,  and  could  narrowly 
watch  his  face.  Never  did  I  see  anything  so  powerful  and  so 
tragic ;  the  deep,  cavernous  eyes  seemed  to  have  lost  every  spark 
of  life,  love,  and  hope.  I  said  to  myself,  "  Paralysis  will  soon 
have  its  victim.''  His  death  occurred  shortly  afterward. 

As  I  have  spoken  of  Mr.  Healy,  I  will  now  tell  something  of 
my  pleasant  acquaintance  with  him,  although  it  began  some 
time  afterward.  My  first  impression  was  not  agreeable ;  he  was 
then  in  the  zenith  of  popularity,  and  had  acquired  a  certain 
degree  of  French  manner,  which  did  not  rightly  express  his 
warm  nature,  and  true,  loyal  heart.  He  painted  a  portrait  of 
Mr.  Cheney  in  1852,  but  while  it  was  agreeable  in  color,  I  did 
not  feel  that  it  did  justice  to  his  character. 

I  afterwards  saw  much  of  Mr.  Healy  in  his  own  home  in 
Paris,  and  found  him  always  a  true,  loyal,  and  affectionate  friend  ; 
but  one  remark  of  his  I  must  recall.  Women  Suffrage  was 
just  beginning  to  attract  attention,  and  as  he  had  several 
daughters  for  whom  he  could  make  small  provision,  the  subject 
of  the  employment  of  women  interested  him  very  much.  After 
a  long  talk,  in  which  the  right  of  women  to  hold  office  as  well 
as  to  vote  had  been  considered,  he  said  :  "  Do  I  understand  you 
aright?  Would  you  have  ladies  go  to  Congress  unattended?" 
This  was  a  difficulty  that  had  not  occurred  to  my  American 
mind.  His  wife  was  a  delightful  English  woman,  who  made  a 
hospitable  and  attractive  home. 

I  must  remember  also  a  cousin  of  Mr.  Cheney's  who  was  a  very 


EARLY    FRIENDS.  49 

interesting  and  peculiar  person,  and  very  dear  to  me.  "  Cousin 
Jane  "  was  hard  to  describe.  She  had  a  long  and  deep  and 
varied  experience  of  life,  though  she  never  travelled  far  from 
her  own  home. 

She  had  very  hard  sufferings  from  early  poverty  and  from 
domestic  trials,  through  which  she  was  devotedly  unselfish.  She 
was  almost  entirely  deprived  of  early  education,  but  always 
dearly  loved  instruction  and  had  a  natural  inclination  for  a 
teacher.  She  began  in  a  little  district  school,  and  there  she 
thought  out  many  of  the  principles  and  plans  from  her  own 
mind  which  now  are  credited  to  the  kindergarten ;  but  the  com 
mittee  objected  to  allowing  her  "  to  clutter  up  the  schoolroom 
with  stones  and  mosses  and  other  natural  objects,  to  waste  the 
children's  time  with."  When  over  forty  years  of  age,  she  went 
.to  a  normal  school  to  improve  her  education.  She  found  a  kind 
friend  in  the  late  Mr.  Philbrick,  who  appreciated  her  natural 
gifts  and  assisted  her  in  the  work. 

She  was  an  early  member  of  the  Methodist  church,  and  was  a 
bigoted  and  rigid,  but  conscientious  member.  When  she  found 
a  house  with  a  yard  full  of  flowers,  she  once  said  that  she  thought, 
"  As  a  professor  lived  there,  she  did  not  think,  she  could  have 
religion,  to  spend  her  time  on  flowers."  Afterwards,  she  became 
wholly  liberated,  and  rejoiced  in  everything.  She  loved  to  hear 
Beecher  or  Parker  or  Emerson,  and  enjoyed  the  opera  or  the 
circus.  Her  whole  nature  seemed  to  be  hungry  and  thirsty  for 
thought  and  knowledge  ;  but  it  was  necessarily  hastily  acquired, 
and  without  system  and  regularity. 

She  was  very  kind  and  helpful  to  any  person  in  need,  but 
she  was  strong  in  her  prejudices  and  did  not  always  judge  people 
rightly.  The  Methodists  had  a  custom  of  having  testimony  in 
meeting,  and  she  afterwards  often  offended  a  minister  by  too 
frank  criticism,  in  manner  or  matter. 

She  was  under  the  yoke  of  fear  of  the  devil  in  her  youth,  but 
after  her  release  she  wrote,  "  Cousin  John,  thank  God,  I  am  out 


50  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

of  Hell."  Afterwards  came  the  dread  of  horses  and  railroads, 
and  every  other  dangerous  thing,  but  she  was  brave  as  a  lion  for 
the  truth,  and  would  stand  up  before  the  world  for  righteousness. 
Still,  she  was  shy  and  diffident ;  and  often,  in  the  effort  to  hide 
her  feeling,  she  appeared  rude  and  ill-bred.  She  was  very 
original  in  many  expressions,  especially  in  her  prayers,  which 
she  used  to  suit  the  occasion.  When  some  friends,  lovers  of 
nature,  were  visiting  her,  she  said,  "  Did  you  have  to  come  here 
to  show  me  everything  is  beautiful  about  me  ? " 

She  was  wont  to  say  all  she  wanted  "  for  heaven  was  to  have 
her  debts  paid,  her  feet  warm,  and  a  clear  conscience."  When 
once  sitting  cosily  by  her  fire  to  warm  her  feet,  she  said,  "  Oh,  I 
hope  we  shall  have  .fires  in  heaven."  "  Why,  I  thought  that  was 
what  you  hoped  to  escape  from  there,"  answered  Mrs.  P. 

In  her  last  days  she  had  a  pension  from  her  relatives  of  four 
hundred  a  }rear,  on  which  she  felt  as  rich  as  a  king,  and  in  her 
little  boarding-house  chamber,  she  always  spoke  of  her  "  ten- 
acre  lot,"  in  which  she  had  boundless  treasure  of  all  manner 
of  relics  and  letters,  autographs  and  photographs,  which  were  a 
constant  delight  to  her.* 

LETTER  OF  JANE  CHENEY  TO  E.  D.  C. 

We  met  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Ralph  Phelps  for  the  purpose  of  mak 
ing  and  quilting  spreads  for  the  soldiers.  I  can  assure  you  that  it  was 
a  proud  day  for  me  —  my  mother's  spirit  seemed  moving  about  the 
rooms,  for  in  this  same  house,  when  our  country  was  at  peace,  my 
mother  was  for  many  years  cold  and  hungry  ;  but  now  when  our  coun 
try  is  being  enveloped  in  darkness  and  suffering,  and  want  comes  to  our 
soldiers,  there  are  seen  five  warm  spreads  passing  from  out  of  this  same 
house  for  the  poor  wounded  soldiers  in  some  hospital.  Cynthia  was 
witli  rne  that  clay  and  we  asked  Mrs.  Phelps  if  we  might  go  over  the 
house,  so  we  went  into  every  room,  and  out  in  the  well-room  we  found 
a  Beaufat  that  was  made  when  the  house  was  built,  and  formed  the 
chief  ornament  of  the  parlor.  Cynthia  made  the  remark  that  our 

*  See  Appendix. 


EARLY   FRIENDS.  51 

mother  had  probably  opened  and  shut  that  Beanfat  door  nearly  a 
thousand  times  ;  so  I  said  to  myself  I  must  have  this  purchased  and 
brought  down  to  my  school  as  a  relic.  I  named  this  to  John,  who 
said  that  it  must  be  put  in  some  room  at  the  homestead,  but  I  shall 
dispute  his  claim.  Coming  home  that  night  we  proposed  walking 
through  the  pines  —  the  moon  was  up,  and  shone  through  the  trees, 
giving  us  just  light  enough  to  make  the  walk  not  romantic  nor  patri 
otic,  but  something  that  approached  to  the  spiritual ;  it  only  needed 
your  presence  to  make  it  just  right.  I  wish  I  could  find  a  word  that 
expressed  the  feeling  I  sometimes  experience. 

FROM   JANE    CHENEY. 
\_0n  returning  from  Boston.~\ 

I  took  Miss  Carter's  book  to  read  in  the  cars,  together  with  some 
knitting-work ;  but  I  did  not  even  untie  the  wrapper,  nor  take  out 
the  needles  and  yarn.  Now  what  do  you  guess  I  did  1  Well,  I  did 
just  what  a  cow  does  when  she  has  been  feeding  all  day  in  the  meadow 
and  has  come  home  to  the  barnyard.  I  did  nothing  but  set  up  a  great 
thinking ;  I  chewed  over  all  the  pleasant  things  that  I  had  enjoyed ; 
I  took  a  look  at  those  living  pictures  at  the  AVomen's  Club  and  at  the 
Horticultural  Hall  and  heard  again  the  two  lectures  on  Work  and  Im 
mortality  ;  or,  in  other  words,  I  ruminated. 

Harriot  Kezia  Hunt  was  among  the  most  remarkable  and 
characteristic  of  the  pioneers  of  women  physicians.  I  acknowl 
edge  her  great  services.  She  was  a  native  of  Boston  of  the 
stock  of  the  old  North  End,  so  rich  in  life  and  character,  full  of 
intelligent  mechanics,  brave  seamen,  and  thoughtful,  self-reliant 
women  who  gave  to  our  young  city  a  balance  of  sturdy  strength, 
for  the  somewhat  exclusive  refinement  of  the  hilltops  of  old 
Boston. 

Miss  Hunt  had  not  the  advantages  of  college  education,  but 
had  the  best  private  schools,  and  she  eagerly  received  all  the 
knowledge  which  wras  offered  her  from  any  source. 

From  an  experience  of  severe  illness  in  her  family  she  gained 


52  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDXAH   DOW  CHENEY. 

the  acquaintance  of  an  English  physician,  Dr.  Valentine  Mott, 
from  whom  she  first  acquired  an  insight  into  the  medical  pro 
fession.  She  applied  to  Harvard  for  medical  instruction,  but  in 
vain,  and  she  proceeded  therefore  to  learn  all  she  could  and 
to  practise  any  good  for  others  which  she  attained  for  herself. 
She  finally  received  a  degree  from  the  Philadelphia  women's 
college. 

She  was  full  of  intuitive  perception,  and  drank  a  full  draught 
of  all  the  theories  and  truths  which  came  to  her.  She  had  great 
insight  into  the  mental  states  of  her  patients  and  had  a  spiritual 
guidance  of  her  whole  life.  Many  women  who  sought  her  in 
trouble  or  sorrow,  were  deeply  indebted  to  her  sympathy  and 
assistance.  Her  joyous  laugh  was  most  contagious  and  often 
proved  the  best  prescription  to  her  patient.  She  was  brave 
to  the  uttermost!  She  protested  against  the  imposition  of 
her  taxes,  and  when  she  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  court-house 
to  recover  some  property  stolen  from  her,  she  insisted  that  the 
chains  which  had  been  put  across  the  entrance  to  secure  the 
fugitive  slaves  from  rescue,  should  be  put  down ;  she  would  not 
stoop  under  a  chain.  She  was  full  of  all  manner  of  activities, 
of  philanthropic  actions,  sentimental  affections,  and  practical 
wisdom.  One  person  said,  "  She  is  Sancho  Panza  in  petticoats." 
Another  said,  "  I  have  great  respect  for  Miss  Hunt  in  her 
character  and  conduct,  but  she  makes  every  aesthetic  hair  rise 
up  on  my  head."  She  was  attached  to  the  Swedenborgian 
church,  but  her  large  liberality  included  all  sects.  She  revered 
from  childhood  John  Murray,  the  apostle  of  Universalism. 
She  loved  to  preach  in  a  Methodist  meeting  or  in  a  Unitarian 
gathering,  and  she  was  a  warm  advocate  of  Theodore  Parker. 

When  she  had  practised  twenty-five  years  she  celebrated 
her  silver  wedding,  as  she  called  it,  in  most  original  and 
characteristic  style.  Her  many  friends  gathered  about  her, 
her  home  was  overwhelmed  with  a  profusion  of  flowers,  and 
her  own  and  her  sisters'  heads  were  wreathed  with  double 


EARLY   FRIENDS.  53 

wreaths;  a  pure  gold  ring  was  given  her  to  consecrate  the 
marriage  to  her  profession. 

She  was  a  rare  type  of  woman  in  whom  heart  and  intellect, 
fancy  and  sound  common-sense  were  all  mingled  in  strange 
profusion.  She  had  faults  and  petty  failings  enough,  but  withal 
she  made  a  path  for  women  on  which  many  a  noble  successor 
has  followed.* 

How  can  I  tell  all  the  richness  of  this  time  ?  I  have  spoken 
of  some  of  the  great  men  and  women  whom  it  was  my  privilege 
to  know,  but  how  can  I  tell  a  tithe  of  memories  of  — 

"The  Good,  the  Noble  in  their  prime, 
Who  made  this  world  the  feast  it  was  !  " 

Dear,  sweet  Anne  Gore,  I  wonder  if  she  did  not  do  me  good 
by  believing  in  me  and  loving  me  enthusiastically  and  inordi 
nately  out  of  the  fulness  of  her  own  heart  and  not  of  my  merits. 

"You  must  have  a  strong  head,"  said  E A one  day,  if 

you  can  stand  such  admiration.  I  think  it  rather  sobered  me 
when  I  saw  how  much  more  truly  good  and  unconscious  she  was 
than  I  could  find  myself  to  be.  Her  cousin,  Sarah  B.  Dana, 
was  a  rare  nature,  very  poetic  and  extremely  sensitive  to  others' 
feelings. 

Mary  C.  Shannon  was  the  noblest  and  most  harmoniously 
blended  woman  it  was  ever  my  blessed  fortune  to  know  and 
love.  Her  physique  was  majestic,  and  her  manners  suggested  the 
high  type  of  natural  nobility.  When  I  have  looked  upon  Van 
dyke's  exquisite  portraits  of  the  aristocratic  women  of  his  day,  I 
have  said,  "  That  is  what  we  want,  with  the  spirit  of  democracy 
added  to  it."  In  Mary  C.  Shannon,  and  in  another  friend  of 

Southern  birth  and  anti-slavery  principles,  Miss  F M , 

I  have  seen  this  type  expressed.  Miss  Shannon's  queenly  bear 
ing  was  blended  with  the  most  tender  loving  care  for  every 
human  being  who  came  under  her  influence.  Her  will  was 

*  See  "Glances  and  Glimpses,"  by  Harriot  K.  Hunt. 


54  REMINISCENCES   OF    EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

strong  and  commanding.  I  put  myself  into  her  hands,  and  the 
sway  was  as  wise  as  it  was  sweet  and  loving.  The  tenderest  of 
nurses,  she  brought  sleep  to  my  pillow  and  rest  to  my  soul. 

Her  sympathies  were  not  confined  to  humanity,  though  she 
never  to  animals  "gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind." 
She  was  kind  to  all,  but  dogs,  horses,  and  cats  were  her  special 
favorites.  She  believed  in  their  immortality,  and  like  the 
Indian  could  not  look  forward  to  "a  Heaven  in  which  her 
faithful  dog  should  not  bear  her  company."  They  responded 
to  her  love,  and  when  she  came  home  bowed  down  by  grief, 
old  Bruno,  who  was  wont  to  leap  around  her  in  wild  gambols  of 
welcome,  walked  by  her  side  and  bowed  his  head  when  he  saw 
the  grief  in  her  face.  She  said  she  "  felt  his  sympathy  as  deeply 
as  that  of  a  human  friend." 

Her  garden  gave  relief  to  a  heart  oppressed  by  many  sorrows. 
She  felt  the  need  of  the  plants  and  gave  them  as  by  instinct 
the  care  which  each  one  needed.  She  would  rub  the  -earth  in 
her  hands  and  say,  "Only  feel  the  life  in  it,"  recognizing  the 
blessing  that  was  to  come  out  of  it.  The  arrangement  of 
flowers  was  her  means  of  artistic  expression.  She  spoke  her 
loving  thoughts  through  them  as  clearly  as  another  might  by 
words  or  music.  Once  when  I  was  in  deep  anxiety,  I  received 
a  box  from  her.  On  opening,  it  seemed  to  contain  cut  flowers 
laid  in  loosely.  I  felt  as  if  a  friend  had  sent  me  a  page  of  a 
dictionary  instead  of  a  letter.  But  on  looking  a  little  farther 
I  found  these  flowers  only  put  in  to  fill  the  box,  and  below 
was  the  beautifully  arrangsd  bouquet  full  of  her  thought  and 
love.  Full  of  practical  wisdom  and  ability,  and  ready  to  serve 
in  the  humblest  or  the  hardest  work  that  was  needful,  she 
made  "  drudgery  divine/'  and  filled  every  moment  with  spiritual 
life.  Tender  and  deep  in  her  religious  nature,  she  was  broad 
and  progressive  in  her  thought,  a  dear  and  honored  friend  of 
John  Weiss,  Samuel  Johnson,  and  Theodore  Parker,  an  original 
member  of  the  Free  Religious  Association,  an  active  Abolition- 


EARLY    FRIENDS.  55 

1st,  a  friend  of  the  Freeclman's  schools,  and  a  thorough  Woman 
Suffragist.  I  have  been  blessed  in  knowing  many  noble  women, 
but  I  have  never  known  one  more  perfect  than  sha. 

'*  A  perfect  woman  nobly  planned 
To  warn,  to  comfort  and  command ; 
And  yet  a  spirit  still  and  bright 
With  something  of  an  angel's  light." 

Her  niece,  Mary  Shannon,  Jr.,  survived  her  fourteen  years. 
When,  as  a  little  child,  she  was  rescued  from  the  unfit  guardian 
ship  of  her  mother,  her  aunt's  unfailing  influence  of  love  and 
goodness  brought  abundant  fruit  from  a  strong  and  rich  soil. 
They  were  unlike,  and  yet  their  harmony  was  perfect.  Less 
poetic  than  her  aunt,  but  with  fine  intellectual  perceptions  and 
the  strongest  principles  of  integrity  and  honor,  united  with 
sound  practical  judgment  and  warm  affections,  she  repaid  the 
unfailing  devotion  of  her  aunt  by  wrise  management,  and  tender 
care  in  her  old  age,  and  always  carried  into  her  daily  life  the 
same  generous  love  and  care  for  others.  She  was  faithful  to 
the  friends  of  her  youth  in  all  the  trials  of  their  lives,  and  many 
a  family  were  saved  from  distress  by  her  wise  and  provident  care. 
Decided  in  all  her  opinions  and  warm  in  her  feelings,  her  love 
of  country  was  unbounded.  She  lived  through  the  war,  and 
never  forgot  its  great  lessons.  Always  an  Abolitionist  her 
interest  in  the  negro  was  constant  and  helpful,  and  especially 
she  rejoiced  in  the  noble  career  of  Booker  T.  Washington,  and 
was  constantly  his  wise  adviser  and  generous  friend. 

She  never  shrank  from  the  expression  of  her  patriotic  feelings. 
She  died  suddenly  on  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Lexington, 
1901.  She  seemed  in  her  usual  health  the  night  before,  and 
she  directed  that  the  country's  flag  should  be  hung  out  early 
in  the  morning  for  the  country's  festival.  When  the  morning 
dawned,  the  great  heart  that  had  so  loved  its  country  had 
ceased  to  beat,  and  the  flag  at  half-mast  told  the  sad  tale  to 
passers-by.  She  loved  life  passionately.  In  spite  of  dark 


56  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

troubles  she  believed  in  this  world  and  in  humanity.  Nothing 
could  shake  her  faith  in  the  power  that  rules  over  all ;  and  this 
love  and  this  faith  made  her  perfectly  sure  of  continued  life, 
eternal  love,  and  constant  progress.  Who  can  doubt  that  when 
she  ceased  to  breathe  our  common  air  she  entered  into  the 
communion  of  blessed  spirits  and  a  life  of  richer  love  and 
service  ? 

How  delightful  were  my  summers  at  the  sea-shore,  especially 
at  my  father's  early  home,  dear  old  Gloucester,  where  after  a 
long  interval  of  absence  we  went  as  the  first  summer  boarders. 
As  I  had  then  some  young  relations  in  the  town,  we  mingled 
with  the  young  people  of  the  place,  and  had  the  merriest  of 
drives  and  walks  and  picnics  with  them.  Every  generation 
has  its  joys,  but  I  cannot  conceive  of  anything  so  pleasant  now 
as  the  old  fishing  parties  at  Bass  Eocks,  when  we  conscientiously 
ate  all  the  curmers  caught,  with  the  brown  rashers  of  pork,  and 
the  large  round  pilot  bread  which  first  served  us  for  a  plate  and 
afterwards  was  eaten  with  its  contents.  A  crowd  of  children 
from  the  town  usually  surrounded  us  and  finished  up  all  our 
leavings.  The  clear  old  matrons  were  ready  to  stay  with  the 
frying-pan  and  the  coffee-pot,  while  we  clambered  over  the 
cliffs  arid  listened  for  the  roar  of  the  Devil  which  Cotton  Mather 
heard  among  the  rocks,  or  searched  for  his  moving  rock,  which 
may  still  be  seen  to-day  by  careful  and  believing  eyes.  How 
I  enjoyed  the  long  walks  into  the  country  with  father,  who 
would  often  stop  to  speak  to  some  old  lad}^  sitting  in  the  sun 
on  the  doorstep,  who  would  not  recognize  the  portly  gentleman 
from  Boston  until  he  said,  "  Why,  don't  you  remember  Sargent 
in  Mr.  Mansfield's  store  ? "  The  boy  in  the  leading  grocery 
store  was  well  remembered.  Gloucester  was  an  ancient  town 
and  full  of  interesting  legends  and  quaint  old  names.  How  I 
hate  to  have  "  Eastern  Point "  and  "  Little  Good  Harbor  Beach," 
and  "  Up  in  Town,"  and  "  Done  Fudging,"  and  "  Vinson's 
Spring,"  and  all  those  dear  old  names  swept  away  to  give  place 


EARLY    FRIENDS.  57 

to  "downs"  and  "dunes"  and  "avenues"  and  even  "boule 
vards,"  for  all  I  know. 

Here  I  first  met  Charles  F.  Hovey,  who  revolutionized  the 
business  methods  of  retail  business  in  Boston.  The  simple 
fidelity  to  truth  and  openness  of  dealing  were  united  to  thorough 
knowledge  of  business  affairs,  and  secured  the  confidence  of  his 
customers  and  soon  obliged  the  whole  trade  to  follow  his  exam 
ple.  For  more  than  fifty  years  "  Hovey's  "  has  been  a  synonym 
for  perfect  fairness  and  excellence  in  business,  and  has  effect 
ively  given  the  lie  to  the  common  false  maxims  that  honesty 
and  uprightness  are  not  the  true  methods  of  success.  Mr. 
Hovey  was  a  very  radical  reformer  in  all  things,  but  he  was 
a  most  genial  and  kind-hearted  man  and  a  perfect  gentleman, 
as  much  at  home  and  as  happy  in  an  elegant  drawing-room 
as  he  was  with  the  fishermen  on  the  beach. 

At  Marblehead  Xeck,  where  we  were  again  pioneers,  we  made 
the  acquaintance  of  the  Curtis  family  who  have  been  true  and 
dear  friends  ever  since,  —  not  the  "  slave-catching  Curtises,"  but 
good  Transcendentalists  and  Abolitionists.  In  this  quiet  retreat 
we  read  and  studied  more  than  we  frolicked,  but  had  many  a 
glorious  walk  and  swim. 

Then  there  was  my  dear  child,  Ariana  S.  Walker,  an  ^Eolian 
harp  sensitive  to  every  wind  and  making  music  from  them 
all.  A  quick,  bright,  naturally  passionate  nature,  full  of  keen 
desires  and  intellectual  longings  and  ambitions,  she  was  dis 
ciplined  by  severe  sufferings  and  bereavements  to  exquisite 
patience,  but  with  keenest  sympathy  to  all  other  sufferers. 
Obliged  to  spend  most  of  her  time  in  quiet  surroundings  with 
books  for  her  companions,  she  lived  in  a  world  of  poetry  and  ro 
mance,  and  wove  subtle  webs  of  fancy  and  dreams.  She  called 
forth  the  love  of  all  around  her,  and  the  village  children  brought 
her  flowers,  and  every  offering  of  beauty  they  could  find  so  that 
she  led  them  into  the  secrets  of  nature  and  blessed  them  as 
much  as  they  cheered  and  enriched  her  life.  On  her  death-bed 


58  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

she  married  the  young  poet  to  whom  she  had  been  an  inspira 
tion  of  love  and  hope.  While  his  later  years  have  been  given 
to  noble  duties  and  wide  humanities,  she  has  never  ceased  to  be 
the  star  of  his  life,  and  his  home,  the  centre  of  kindly  affection, 
generous  hospitality  and  care  for  the  unfortunate,  has  both  by 
him  and  his  unselfish  wife  been  dedicated  to  her  living  memory. 

I  must  not  forget  my  cousin  and  life-long  friend,  Jane  W. 
Dow,  of  Portland.  Her  sparkling  beauty  and  her  fascinating 
manners  charmed  young  and  old,  but  if  she  broke  many  hearts 
they  were  always  finally  healed,  and  she  remained  friends  with 
whom  she  had  wounded.  She  had  much  talent  both  for  music 
and  for  poetry,  and  continued  her  studies  in  music  after  her 
seventieth  year.  She  was  full  of  wit  and  charming  conversation 
which  delighted  her  large  circle  wherever  she  went. 

She  married  happily  General  Anderson  of  Portland. 


AFTER   MARRIAGE.  59 


CHAPTER   IV. 

AFTER  MARRIAGE. 

"  If  e'er  I  have  a  house,  my  dove, 
That  truly  is  called  mine,  • 

And  can  afford  but  country  cheese, 
Or  aught  that 's  as  good  therein; 
Though  thou  wert  rebel  to  the  king, 
And  beat  with  wind  and  rain, 
Assure  thyself  of  welcome,  love, 
For  old  lang  syne." 

ALLAN  RAMSAY. 

"A  poor  widow,  some  deal  stoop'n  in  age, 
Was  whilom  dwelling  in  a  nanve  cottage 
Beside  a  grove  standing  in  a  dale." 

CHAUCER. 

T  WAS  married  in  1853,  but  I  shall  say  but  little  of  those  pre 
cious  years  of  my  life,  because  I  have  already  spoken  of  them 
in  my  memoir  of  my  husband,  and  they  seem  to  contain  nothing 
apart  from  him. 

We  sailed  for  Liverpool  in  the  "Niagara,"  August  2d,  1854 ; 
but,  strangely  enough,  I  have  but  little  to  say  of  this  great  ex 
perience  of  a  first  visit  to  Europe.  I  was  almost  wholly  absorbed 
in  personal  matters.  My  acquaintance  with  the  pictures  of 
Millet,  and  my  one  sight  of  him  made  an  impression  which  has 
never  been  effaced.  It  was  a  great  happiness  to  see  Art  with 
Mr.  Cheney;  but \  veil  of  sadness  covers  the  whole  time,  and 
I  must  let  it  pass. 

On  our  return  from  Europe,  we  remained  at  Manchester,  until 
the  birth  of  my  daughter,  on  September  8th,  1855.  This  great 
joy  was  saddened  by  Mr.  Cheney's  continued  illness,  and  we 
remained  mostly  at  Manchester,  until  his  death  in  1856,  when 
I  returned  to  Boston,  with  my  baby,  then  about  a  year  old,  and 


60  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

took  possession  of  a  house  belonging  to  my  father's  estate,  No. 
94  Chestnut  Street.  My  old  friend,  Augusta  R.  Curtis,  spent  a 
year  or  two  with  me.  She  was  devoted  to  the  child,  and  did 
much  to  make  the  empty  house  a  home. 

The  first  thing  that  awoke  me  to  the  claims  of 'duty  outside 
of  my  own  house  was  a  visit  from  Dr.  Zakrzewska,  who  was 
then  in  Boston  on  a  mission  to  raise  funds  for  the  New  York 
Infirmary,  and  had  been  sent  to  me  by  my  friend,  Harriot  K. 
Hunt.  It  seemed  impossible  to  enter  into  her  earnest,  enthusi 
astic  views  at  that  time,  but  she  would  not  let  me  rest  in  the 
indolence  and  selfishness  of  grief,  but  impressed  me  with  her 
own  noble  and  unselfish  character.  Her  life  has  been  partly 
written  by  herself  and  edited  by  Mrs.  Dall,  and  I  hope  that  her 
friends  will  complete  her  reminiscences ;  but  I  must  give  my 
testimony  to  her  large  genius,  and  still  larger  heart.  Of  quick, 
impatient  temper,  and  brusque  manners,  somewhat  characteristic 
of  her  country,  she  sometimes  gave  offence,  yet  in  forty  years 
of  working  together,  I  found  her  the  most  unselfish  of  human 
beings,  and  entirely  devoted  to  the  interests  of  humanity.  Her 
many  and  trying  experiences  of  life  gave  her  a  deep  interest 
and  tender  compassion  for  the  sufferings  of  others,  and  she  was 
as  tender  of  the  feelings,  as  careful  of  the  welfare  of  the  most 
humble  and  ignorant,  as  of  the  most  lofty  and  accomplished. 
To  her,  more  than  to  any  other  human  being,  is  due  the  success 
of  women  in  America,  in  the  noble  profession  in  which  she  led 
the  way.  To  Elizabeth  R.  Blackwell  must  be  given  the  credit 
of  first  entering  the  profession  herself,  and  she  has  had  a  career 
of  great  service  and  fame,  but  she  was  of  English  birth,  and  left 
America  for  England — where  she  is  still  living  (1901).  And 
she  has  not  so  identified  herself  with  the  work  in  America  as  her 
German  follower,  who  always  looked  up  to  her  with  reverence 
and  love.* 

*  She  died  May  12,  1902.     She  was  of  an  ancient  Polish  family. 


AFTER   MARRIAGE.  61 

The  next  few  years  seem  almost  a  blank  to  memory,  except 
for  the  delight  of  my  child's  development,  and  the  sweetness 
of  the  relations  growing  up,  and  the  interest  of  little  children 
who  first  called  me  "  Aunt  Ednah,"  and  who  occasionally  came 
for  a  short  time  under  my  care. 

One  thing,  however,  stands  out  prominent  —  the  Hospital  for 
women  and  children.  For  three  years  this  hospital  was  con 
nected  with  the  Medical  College  already  started.  When  we 
took  an  independent  position  for  the  hospital,  I  became  its 
Secretary,  and  continued  so  until  the  resignation  of  the  Presi 
dent,  in  1887,  when  I  was  chosen  to  fill  her  place,  which  office 
I  have  held  until  the  present  time,  1902.  I  have  written  the 
history  of  this  work  elsewhere,  and  here  I  can  only  say  what  it 
has  been  to  me.  First  is  the  warm  friendship  of  the  President, 
Miss  Lucy  Goddard,  a  woman  of  rare  qualities  of  mind  and 
heart,  but  whose  brusque  manners  often  caused  her  to  be  greatly 
misunderstood.  She  was  utterly  unselfish,  but  impatient  of  con 
tradiction  ;  "  Let  me  have  my  own  way,  I  shall  live  the  longer  " 
was  a  favorite  expression  of  hers.  Her  own  way  was  generally 
a  very  good  one.  She  had  fine  intellectual  powers  ;  her  literary 
taste  was  excellent ;  she  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Emerson,  a 
warm  admirer  of  James  Freeman  Clarke,  and  many  other  men 
of  similar  stamp.  Her  artistic  sense  was  very  fine,  and  showed 
itself  in  a  rare  power  of  decoration  with  flowers.  She  was  en 
gaged  by  the  city  to  arrange  the  decorations  for  Governor 
Andrew's  funeral. 

When  some  one  once  praised  the  decoration  of  a  Fair  table, 
attributing  it  to  me,  Mr.  Clarke  said,  "  I  've  great  respect  for  Mrs. 
Cheney ;  but  in  decoration  she  can't  hold  a  candle  to  Miss 
Goddard."  She  would  not  employ  the  ordinary  heavy  black  in 
funeral  draperies,  but  preferred  a  beautiful  violet,  which  ex 
pressed  her  own  cheerful  feeling  about  death  and  the  thoughts 
that  should  accompany  it.  She  was  a  most  untiring  and  faith 
ful  friend  and  nurse  in  sickness.  She  lived  to  an  extreme  old 


62  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

age,  and  it  was  very  touching,  when  she  was  brought  to  the 
hospital,  —  her  own  home  being  closed  at  the  time,  —  that  she 
did  not  recognize  the  place  for  which  she  had  done  so  much,  and 
said  it  was  the  most  delightful  boarding-house  she  had  ever 
seen,  saying,  "Everybody  is  so  kind,  and  it  seems  as  if  they 
loved  to  take  care  of  you." 

I  cannot  speak  of  all  the  dear  friends  who  were  engaged  with 
me  in  this  work,  which  I  had  the  happiness  to  see  advance  from 
its  small  beginnings  to  full  recognition  and  success.  I  must 
not,  however,  fail  to  mention  the  Fairs,  which  were  held  at 
intervals  of  about  three  years,  to  raise  the  necessary  funds. 
Fairs  are  generally  considered  necessary  evils,  but  they  became 
occasions  of  much  enjoyment  and  good  fellowship.  Giving  up 
all  raffles  and  other  objectionable  means,  we  endeavored  to  win 
favor  only  by  the  excellence  of  the  articles  offered,  and  the  cour 
tesy  of  those  who  tended  the  tables.  I  usually  assisted  Miss 
Goddard  in  the  Fern  table,  and  she  did  wonderful  things  in  the 
way  of  preparing  ferns  for  decoration.  We  sold  hundreds  of 
dollars'  worth  of  the  beautiful  climbing  fern  *  which  was  then 
rare,  and  we  made  many  transparencies.  Many  things  first 
introduced  by  us  became  regular  objects  of  sale  in  the  stores, 
thus  introducing  new  methods  of  industry.  In  this,  and  in 
many  other  ways  the  Fair  was  soon  a  public  benefactor. 

I  will  say  nothing  of  the  medical  success  of  the  work,  which 
is  well  known  to  the  public,  except  to  mark  the  very  uncertain 
character  of  all  prophecies  about  the  success  of  woman's  work. 
In  the  beginning  of  our  efforts  for  medical  education,  the  remark 
was  constantly  made  that  women  might  be  adapted  well  to 
nursing,  as,  indeed,  they  had  always  shown  themselves,  and  even 
to  the  care  of  purely  medical  cases,  but  that  they  would  utterly 
fail  in  surgery.  Yet  this  has  been  precisely  the  department  in 
which  they  have  been  most  successful,  and  acquired  marked 

*  Lygodiuin  palmatum. 


AFTER   MARRIAGE.  63 

public  recognition.  In  fact,  so  strong  has  been  the  predilection 
of  women  for  this  branch  of  medicine,  that  it  has  been  necessary 
to  discourage  the  applicants  for  it,  instead  of  having  difficulty  in 
securing  them.  In  surgery  the  results  of  skill  are  patent  to  all, 
and  the  success  of  a  brilliant  operation  wins  more  attention  than 
the  long,  patient,  wise  care  of  a  medical  case,  although  the 
latter  may  require  equal  mental  and  moral  ability  on  the  part 
of  the  physician. 

Our  commodious  and  well-appointed  surgical  building  was 
not  created  until  our  surgeons  had  done  admirable  work ; 
which  won  the  confidence  of  the  community  under  many 
disadvantages.* 

I  have  often  been  puzzled  when  asked  to  state  my  calling  in 
life,  and  although  often  tempted  to  answer  "  Jack  at  all  trades  " 
or  "  Jack  at  a  pinch,"  I  have  more  soberly  answered,  "  Writer," 
feeling  that  I  have  never  accomplished  anything  in  literature 
that  would  entitle  me  to  the  name  of  author. 

It  was  my  earliest  ambition  to  belong  to  that  honorable  call 
ing,  since  an  artist's  career  was  impossible,  and  I  remember  well 
when  I  thought  that  a  book,  sent  with  the  "  author's  regards  " 
would  make  me  the  proudest  and  happiest  of  women.  I  treasure 
still  a  little  thin,  yellow-covered  copy  of  poems,  with  the  auto 
graph  of  my  honored  friend  Edward  Brackett  (the  sculptor) 
which  was  the  first  gift  of  the  kind  that  I  ever  received. 

I  began  very  early  to  scribble  for  my  own  amusement,  and  to 
write  stories,  the  only  interest  of  which  now  would  be  to  show 
the  tone  of  thought  of  "  a  girl  of  the  period." 

My  life  was  so  sheltered,  and  I  knew  so  little  of  passion  or 
adventure,  that  I  was  always  at  a  loss  to  get  any  bad  people  in. 
I  could  never  make  them  have  any  relation  to  or  influence  in 
my  good  people's  lives.  I  was  no  Calviuist,  and  error,  igno- 


*  Abundant  record   of    this  work    may   be   found  ill  the    "  History   of  the 
Hospital." 


64  REMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

ranee,  and  weakness  seemed  much  more  real  facts  to  me  than  the 
monster  Sin.  I  used  to  delight  the  girls  at  school  with  my 
stories,  which  I  presume  were  only  rehashes  of  what  I  had  read, 
but  in  later  days  I  tried  to  express  what  life  really  meant  to  me, 
and  to  state,  if  not  solve,  the  problems  which  interested  me. 

None  of  these  early  stories  were  ever  published ;  and  I  know 
of  only  one  extant,  called  "  The  Faithful  and  True."  My  heroes 
were  always  ministers  or  artists.  I  remember  one  story  in  which 
I  tried  to  portray  Mr.  Alcott  as  counsellor  and  friend,  in  con 
trast  with  my  lively  young  cousin  who  served  as  the  gay  hero  in 
my  tales.  When  a  schoolgirl  I  wrote  many  foolish  things  for 
a  school  paper,  and  afterwards  with  an  older  set  of  girls,  among 
whom  was  Cornelia  Walter,  I  wrote  for  a  manuscript  magazine 
called  "  The  Mount  Vernon  Eeview."  Mr.  Walter,  then  editor 
of  the  "  Transcript,"  occasionally  printed  some  of  my  articles, 
and  I  was  proud  to  make  my  first  appearance  as  a  poet  in 
"  Lines  to  the  Morning  Star." 

I  experimented  with  a  young  friend  of  similar  taste  in  offer 
ing  didactic  articles  to  the  newspapers;  I  need  not  say  they 
were  neglected.  I  very  early  made  up  my  mind  never  to  enter 
into  newspaper  controversies.  This  method  of  controversy 
seemed  to  me  neither  profitable  nor  agreeable,  and  I  resolved 
that  I  would  never  answer  a  newspaper  article  except  to  correct 
some  misstatement  of  facts. 

I  had  an  amusing  incident,  and  formed  a  valuable  friendship 
from  one  of  the  first  newspaper  articles  that  I  ever  published. 
I  wrote  for  a  new  paper  called  "  The  Rationalist,"  a  satirical 
article  called  "The  Rights  of  Man,"  claiming  that  a  man  was 
entitled  to  all  the  rights  to  unselfishness,  patience,  purity,  and 
obedience,  and  other  virtues  commonly  assigned  to  women. 
It  was  published  anonymously  and  attracted  the  attention  of 
an  eccentric  but  interesting  farmer  in  Massachusetts.  He  ap 
plied  to  the  editor  for  the  name  of  the  writer,  which  was 
refused.  He  then  sent  me  several  pamphlets  of  his  own 


AFTER   MARRIAGE.  65 

writing.  Having  learned  from  my  old  teacher,  Mr.  Fowle, 
that  he  was  a  highly  respectable  though  eccentric  married  man 
with  an  independent  fortune,  living  on  a  beautiful  farm,  I  con 
sented  to  see  him.  He  was  the  son  of  Professor  P ,  of 

Andover  Theological  School.  He  said  he  had  no  childhood,  but 
was  always  a  young  student.  He  became  a  teacher  in  Professor 
Bolmar's  school  in  Pennsylvania,  but  when  about  forty  years 
old  he  received  a  large  inheritance  from  his  mother's  family, 
the  Bromfields.  When  he  found  himself  an  independent  man, 
his  first  thought  was,  "  What  could  he  do  that  would  do  no 
body  any  harm  ? "  He  decided  that  farming  was  the  most 
innocent  of  amusements,  and  concluded  to  take  possession  of  his 
estate  and  cultivate  it.  His  next ;  object  was  to  secure  a  wife 
possessed  of  all  imaginable  perfections;  but  being  a  very 
warm-hearted  and  impulsive  man,  he  fell  in  love  with  a  young 
woman  from  Maine  who  was  his  companion  in  a  stage  coach, 
because  of  her  beautiful  smile  when  she  bade  her  friends  "good 
bye  "  at  the  door.  His  method  succeeded,  for  after  many  years 
of  happy  marriage  he  said,  "If  God  Almighty  had  made  a 
woman  on  purpose  for  me,  he  could  not  have  done  better."  She 
was  a  genuine,  healthy,  intelligent,  kind-hearted,  and  practical 
woman,  but  had  little  intellectual  culture,  and  looked  up  to  her 
husband  as  a  marvel  of  erudition,  so  that  the  respect  was 
mutual. 

They  devoted  themselves  to  the  farm,  which  was  beautifully 
situated  near  a  small  lake,  with  two  avenues  of  noble  elms,  lead 
ing  one  to  the  street  and  the  other  to  the  cemetery.  He  invited 
me  to  come  and  make  him  a  visit  in  June,  and  I  was  so 
charmed  with  the  place  that  our  whole  family  spent  several 
weeks  at  the  hotel,  which  was  a  very  good  one. 

His  religious  views  became  very  much  enlarged  and  he  had 
built  a  little  chapel  on  his  own  grounds,  where  he  either 
preached  himself  or  engaged  some  other  person,  whose  opinions 
he  approved.  His  wife  managed  the  dairy,  and  for  many  years 


66  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

supplied  "  Parker's  "  with  the  super-excellent  butter  which  de 
lighted  the  epicures  who  frequented  there.  His  house  was  acci 
dentally  burned  to  the  ground.  He  spent  several  winters  in 
Boston  and  was  a  constant  visitor  at  our  house,  where  all  the 
family  enjoyed  his  quaint  humor  and  warm-hearted  feeling. 
His  education  had  been  so  neglected  in  childhood  that  he  had 
never  read  Mother  Goose  until  I  presented  him  with  a  copy, 
which  was  among  the  few  treasures  saved  from  the  ruin  of  the 
house.  One  room  in  that  house  was  like  the  chamber  in  which 
they  laid  the  pilgrim  to  rest,  "  that  looked  to  the  sunrising,  and 
the  name  of  that  chamber  was  Peace." 

He  became  very  much  interested  in  Dr.  Miner  and  left  all 
his  property,  except  a  provision  for  his  wife  during  her  life,  to 
Tufts  College. 

I  had  published  various  articles  in  "  The  North  American 
Eeview,"  and  other  periodicals,  but  I  think  that  my  first  venture 
in  a  book  form  was  a  very  little  one  called  "  The  Hand  Book  for 
American  Citizens,"  written  for  the  use  of  the  Freedmen's  schools. 

It  contained  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  and  other 
historical  matter,  and  some  rules  for  conducting  meetings.  Lee 
&  Shepard  printed  it  for  the  advertisement  on  the  covers,  and  it 
was  sold  to  the  schools  for  a  few  cents.  1866. 

Next  came  a  little  book,  in  1871,  called  "Patience"  a  book  of 
solitaire*  games  with  cards.  It  has  been  very  popular  and  is  an 
invaluable  resource  for  invalids.  The  profits  went  to  furnish 
libraries  for  the  Freedmen.  Another  book  of  social  games 
followed  in  1871. 

I  had  spent  a  few  memorable  days  at  Thatcher's  Island  with 
my  dear  friend  Mrs.  Bray,  and  was  so  much  interested  in  her 
adventures  that  I  published  a  little  story  founded  on  one  of  them 
and  called  "Faithful  to  the  Light"  (in  1870).  In  1873  and 

*  When  I  have  felt  any  temptation  to  literary  vanity,  I  have  corrected  the 
impulse  by  remembering  that  I  have  had  more  gratitude  for  this  than  for  anything 
else  I  have  ever  written. 


AFTER   MARRIAGE.  67 

1874  I  published  two  popular  tales  for  young  people  called 
"  Sally  Williams  "  and  "  Child  of  the  Tide." 

In  1875  I  began  my  work  in  biography  with  a  life  of  Susan 
Dimock,  our  first  surgeon  at  the  Hospital.  She  was  a  young 
woman  of  extraordinary  talent  and  noble  character,  and  her 
sudden  death  by  shipwreck  was  a  terrible  blow  to  all  who 
were  interested  in  the  cause  of  medical  education  for  women.* 

In  1881  I  printed  memoirs  of  my  husband,  to  give  a  cor 
rect  account  of  his  life,  as  the  notices  of  him  in  current  pub 
lications  weue  very  often  erroneous ;  and  I  afterwards  added 
brief  memoirs  of  my  dear  daughter,  and  of  my  brother-in-law 
John  Cheney,  the  distinguished  engraver. 

I  edited,  with  the  help  of  friends,  a  selection  from  Michael 
Angelo's  poems,  with  translations,  in  the  hope  of  promoting  a 
knowledge  of  these  works  of  the  great  artist.  1885. 

I  also,  in  compliance  with  his  will,  edited  the  poems  of  my 
friend  David  .A.  Wasson.  I  prepared  a  brief  Memoir  of  Mrs. 
Harriet  E.  Sewall  at  the  request  of  her  family,  and  also  pub 
lished  the  "  Life  of  Louisa  Alcott." 

In  1890  I  published,  for  the  benefit  of  our  Hospital  Fair,  a 
little  book  which  might  appear  rather  audacious  :  "  A  Sequel  to 
Ibsen's  '  Doll's  House.' "  I  was  so  moved  to  indignation  by 
Walter  Besant's  conclusion  of  the  book,  which  seemed  to  me 
wholly  false  to  the  original  idea,  that  I  hastily  wrote  my  own 
solution,  which  I  fear  has  little  merit  save  in  intention. 

Having  become  much  interested  in  the  work  of  the  German 
sculptor  Eauch  while  in  Europe  in  1892,  I  condensed  the 
German  life  of  him  into  one  volume,  hoping  to  introduce  him 
to  the  attention  of  our  sculptors,  and  the  American  world  of 
Art. 

As  Falstaff  was  "not  only  witty  himself,  but  the  cause  of 
wit  in  others,"  so  if  I  have  not  accomplished  much  in  literature 

*  Life  of  Susan  Dimock,  published  by  the  N.  E.  Hospital. 


68  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

myself,  I  caused  the  publication  of  a  book  which  is  a  manual 
of  knowledge,  skill,  and  patience. 

While  engaged  in  making  a  collection  of  my  brother  John 
Cheney's  engravings,  I  had  the  valuable  assistance  of  Mr.  S.  E. 
Koehler,  the  curator  of  engravings  in  the  Boston  Art  Museum. 
He  offered  to  make  a  catalogue  of  his  work.  It  is  a  model  of 
thorough  care  and  faithful  criticism,  and  is  an  instance  of  the 
perfect  fidelity  and  exactness  which  ought  to  characterize  every 
publication  on  contemporary  Art.  It  was  a  work  of  love  on 
his  part,  for  it  brought  him  no  pecuniary  reward. 

Mr.  Koehler's  loss  to  the  Art  Museum  and  to  the  study  of 
Art  is  incalculable. 

I  have  neglected  to  speak  of  an  earlier  work  called  "  Glean 
ings  in  the  Fields  of  Art,"  which  is  mainly  a  collection  of  my 
first  lectures  at  the  Concord  School  of  Philosophy. 


THE  SCHOOL   OF  DESIGN.  69 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE  SCHOOL  OF  DESIGN. 

"  Thou  canst  not  see  grass  grow,  how  sharp  soe'er  thou  be, 
Yet  that  the  grass  has  grown,  thou  very  soon  canst  see. 
So,  though  thou  canst  not  see  thy  work  now  prospering, 
The  point  of  every  work,  time  without  fail  shall  show." 

RUCKERT  —  Wisdom  of  the  Brahmins. 

TN  the  autumn  of  1850  I  caine  home  from  Gloucester  ill  with 
typhoid  fever,  as  soon  appeared.  By  the  urgency  of  my 
dear  friend,  Mary  Shannon,  Dr.  William  Wesselhoefft  *  was 
called,  as  our  old  family  physician,  Dr.  Fisher,  had  died  a  few 
years  before.  This  was  my  first  experience  in  Homeopathy, 
and  of  the  noble,  dear  doctor  who  more  entirely  filled  my  ideal 
of  a  physician  than  any  one  I  had  ever  known.  He  was  a 
German  of  fine  culture  and  intellectual  attainments,  who  had 
known  Goethe  in  his  youth.  I  do  not  know  what  circumstances 
led  him  and  his  brother  to  America ;  but  they  were  settled  for 
a  time  in  Pennsylvania,  \vhere  he  pursued  his  profession  as 
physician  of  the  old  school  in  which  he  had  been  educated. 
Through  his  observation  of  some  interesting  cases  he  was  led 
to  the  study  of  Homeopathy,  and  accepted  the  theory  and 
practice  with  enthusiasm.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  to  come 
to  Boston,  and  shared  in  the  suffering  from  the  opposition  to 
the  new  method.  An  amusing  proof  of  the  popular  feeling 
was  given  me  by  a  lady  who  said  that  she  could  remember 
running  rapidly  by  his  house  in  Bedford  Street,  because  she 
thought  a  murderer  lived  there.  He  was  one  of  the  most  gener- 

*  See  Memorial  of  Dr.  William  Wesselhoefft  published  by  Nathl.  C.  Peabody, 
1859.     This  is  an  interesting  story  written  by  Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody. 


70  REMINISCENCES  OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

ous,  warm-hearted  and  delicately  benevolent  of  men.  A  man 
of  the  finest  artistic  taste,  lie  was  shut  out  from  much  of  the 
refined  society  of  Boston  ;  but  his  house  was  always  open  to  the 
needy  among  his  own  countrymen,  many  of  whom  had  their 
Sunday  dinner  at  his  hospitable  table  regularly.  His  son  and 
grandson  have  succeeded  him  in  his  profession  with  equal  suc 
cess.  It  was  a  great  trial  to  my  mother,  who  had  no  knowledge 
of,  or  enthusiasm  for  Homeopathy,  but  was  obliged  to  withstand 
the  criticism  and  objection  of  friends  and  relatives,  who  thought 
she  was  risking  my  life  in  the  hands  of  a  quack,  while  I  had 
become  so  attached  to  my  helpful  physician  that  any  hint  of 
change  would  have  driven  me  frantic. 

My  recovery  was  long  and  tedious ;  the  "winter  was  one  of 
great  anxiety  and  distress  to  all  anti-slavery  people,  for  dis 
sension  was  at  its  height,  and  ran  into  families  and  homes, 
as  well  as  into  public  councils.  In  the  spring,  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Townsend,  a  lady  of  Philadelphia  with  whom  I  had  slight, 
but  pleasant  acquaintance,  insisted  upon  taking  me  home  with 
her  for  a  visit,  as  she  saw  the  low  tone  of  my  health,  and 
my  depression  of  spirits.  Nothing  could  have  been  wiser  or 
kinder;  for  several  weeks,  I  had  with  her  every  comfort  and 
luxury  the  heart  could  desire,  and  among  other  things  a  car 
riage  journey  through  the  beautiful  West  Chester  county.  I 
met  new  and  delightful  society ;  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Townsend  both 
belonged  to  old  Quaker  families,  though  they  had  left  the 
strict  communion  and  joined  Dr.  Fur  ness'  church.  Dr.  Town- 
send's  sisters  were  very  interesting  women ;  one  of  them  was 
an  invalid,  almost  confined  to  her  couch,  and  nearly  blind,  but 
her  heart  was  full  of  love  and  joy,  and  the  deepest  sympathy 
for  anti-slavery  and  all  other  reforms.  A  younger  sister  was 
her  devoted  nurse  and  attendant ;  she  read  to  her,  wrote  for 
her,  helped  her  in  the  little  fancy  work  that  she  loved  to  do,  and 
with  the  keenest  delight  in  the  beauty  of  nature,  she  seemed 
to  drink  it  in,  only  to  pour  it  all  out  to  her  sister.  She  herself 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   DESIGN.  71 

was  full  of  comic  wit  and  fun ;  I  remember  one  of  her  sayings, 
that  she  did  n't  like  a  cedar  tree,  for  they  were  dead  when  they 
ought  to  be  alive,  and  alive  when  they  ought  to  be  dead. 

Here  I  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Dr.  Furness.  I  went 
to  see  him  almost  immediately  after  my  arrival  in  Philadelphia, 
and  had  the  pleasure  of  bearing  to  him  the  news  that  Charles 
Sumner  was  elected  to  the  Senate.  "We  had  a  long,  sympathetic 
talk  on  the  great  subject,  and  when  I  came  away  he  held  out 
his  hand  and  said:  "Birds  of  a  feather  flock  together — I  shall 
come  and  see  you." 

I  heard  him  preach  one  of  his  noble  anti-slavery  sermons, 
so  full  of  tenderness  and  pity  that  it  might  seem  fit  to  melt 
"  the  heart  of  a  millstone ; "  but  one  or  two  men  walked  angrily 
out  of  the  church.  He  very  narrowly  escaped  losing  his  pulpit ; 
but  a  few  faithful  ones  clung  to  him  devotedly.  His  study  of 
the  life  of  Jesus  was  the  work  of  his  heart  and  poetic  imagina 
tion  both.  One  morning  he  came  to  see  me.  I  was  alone. 
After  a  call  of  a  reasonable  length  he  put  on  his  hat  and  took 
his  cane  to  go,  when  something  recalled  to  him  the  story  of 
Lazarus.  He  began  picturing  out  the  whole  scene,  till  it  was 
as  vivid  before  my  eyes  as  the  daylight  around  us,  and  for  an 
hour  or  more  we  were  talking  with  Jesus  and  his  friends,  and 
entering  into  the  heart  and  life  of  Him  who  was  as  near  and 
present  to  him  as  his  own  family. 

I  also  met  Lucretia  Mott.  I  heard  her  in  Quaker  meetings, 
and  visited  her  in  her  own  home,  where  she  shed  an  atmosphere 
of  peace  and  life  around  her,  which  made  every  one  feel  at  home 
and  content. 

Another,  very  different,  person  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  interest 
and  pleasure  :  Dr.  William  Elder.  He  was  a  man  of  great  gifts, 
very  eloquent  in  public  speech,  and  entertaining  in  conversation, 
but  erratic  and  unreliable ;  he  wavered  in  his  political  connec 
tions,  and  never  accomplished  the  work  which  seemed  possible 
to  him. 


72  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

But  one  of  the  most  interesting  results  of  my  Philadelphia 
residence  came  from  visiting  the  School  of  Design,  for  women, 
in  company  with  Dr.  Flagg,  of  Boston.  This  school  was  then 
new,  arid  under  the  charge  of  Mrs.  Hill,  a  woman  admirably 
fitted  for  the  place,  both  by  her  own  force  of  character  and 
the  training  of  her  father,  himself  an  accomplished  draughtsman. 

We  were  so  much  interested  in  the  school  that  we  conceived 
"the  desire  to  establish  a  similar  one  in  Boston,  and  on  our  return 
found  Dr.  Harriot  K.  Hunt  and  others  very  ready  to  accept  the 
idea,  and  we  began  talking  of  it  to  others.  At  this  juncture,  as 
we  were  looking  out  for  a  possible  teacher,  an  English  gentle 
man  arrived,  who  posed  as  a  Unitarian  martyr,  with  letters  of 
introduction  to  the  most  distinguished  Unitarians  in  Boston. 
He  had  been  educated  at  the  South  Kensington  School,  and  re 
fused  employment  because  he  could  not  conform  to  the  National 
Church.  It  seemed  a  providential  opportunity,  and  many 
influential  people  were  ready  to  assist  in  starting  the  school  and 

giving  him  employment.  At  the  same  time,  Mr.  S G. 

W ,  agent  of  Baring  Bros.,  a  rare  man,  who  combined  high 

financial  ability  and  the  truest  sense  of  honor  and  integrity 
with  fine  artistic  ability,  saw  the  need  for  improved  design  for 
our  manufactures,  and  secured  for  the  school  the  countenance 
and  pecuniary  assistance  of  several  of  the  leading  manufacturing 
firms  in  the  State.  All  seemed  to  smooth  the  way  for  opening 
the  school ;  a  committee  was  formed,  which  at  that  time  con 
sisted  of  Dr.  Flagg,  President,  John  T.  Sargent,  Anna  Q.  T. 
Parsons,  Harriot  K.  Hunt,  Ednah  D.  Littlehale,  Secretary,  and 
Samuel  G.  Ward,  Treasurer. 

We  had  indeed  secured  a  most  remarkable  man  for  our 
teacher ;  such  a  compound  of  plausibility,  superficial  fascination, 
vanity,  conceit,  ignorance,  and  impudence  it  would  be  hard  to 
discover  in  a  well-dressed  Englishman.  At  some  meetings  held, 
a  witty  gentleman  described  his  manner  of  speaking,  as  if  he  were 
"  uttering  a  confidential  prayer."  He  deceived  the  very  elect. 


THE    SCHOOL   OF   DESIGN.  73 

We  had  a  room  in  Warren  Street  Chapel,  but  afterwards  re 
moved  to  a  very  commodious  hall  in  one  of  the  new  buildings 
in  Summer  Street,  and  began  to  advertise  for  pupils.  Young 
women  applied  in  large  numbers,  many  of  them  full  of  zeal  and 
talent,  and  most  eager  to  find  a  new  and  agreeable  way  of  earn 
ing  a  living.  But  they  were  appalled  at  the  idea  that  they  must 
give  six  months  for  training,  and  we  had  to  argue  with  them  as 
to  the  length  of  time  required  in  fitting  for  other  professions. 

The  teacher  had  been  trained  at  the  South  Kensington  School, 
and  he  began  at  once  with  its  methods  of  linear  drawing,  the 
combination  of  angles,  lines,  etc.  This  he  understood,  and  he 
had  the  power  of  making  it  intensely  interesting  and  captivating 
to  his  pupils,  who  zealously  labored  day  after  day,  and  week 
after  week  in  the  same  direction.  His  powers  of  personal 
fascination  held  many  of  them  enchained  to  him,  and  he  lavished 
promises  with  all  the  generosity  and  unscrupulousness  of  Caleb 
Balderstone  at  Wolf's  Craig,  and  with  as  little  power  or  purpose 
of  fulfilment.  In  six  months  every  one  of  them  could  be  earn 
ing  $500  or  $600  a  year  by  designing,  if  they  would  only 
follow  his  directions.  I  remember  one  poor  girl,  who  had 
to  follow  the  strictest  economy  to  come  to  the  school,  looked 
forward  to  a  heaven  of  hope,  when  she  might  sell  her  design, 
and  get  a  "  nine-penny  "  beefsteak  dinner  at  some  restaurant  she 
had  found. 

The  committee  had  engaged  him  distinctly  for  his  whole 
time ;  but  he  soon  began  delivering  lectures  about  the  country 
on  his  own  account,  and  thought  the  committee  very  unreason 
able  when  they  objected  to  his  arriving  in  school  at  a  late  hour 
in  the  forenoon,  instead  of  being  in  his  place  at  nine  o'clock. 
The  committee  began  to  find  his  criticisms  very  shallow,  and 
often  ridiculous,  and  they  thought  however  valuable  as  elemen 
tary  training  drawing  straight  lines  together  might  be,  it  was 
not  all  that  would  be  needed  for  an  accomplished  designer ; 
and  they  proposed  more  progressive  work.  But  they  soon  found 


74  KEMINISCENCES    OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

the  limits  of  their  accomplished  teacher.  He  could  not  lay  a 
flat  tint  in  india  ink,  nor  draw  a  grape-leaf,  nor  do  anything 
beyond  the  strict  limits  of  the  system.  He  did  exhibit  some 

attempts  at  oil  painting  to  Mr.  W ,  who  urged  him  to  keep 

them  out  of  sight  for  the  sake  of  the  reputation  of  the  school. 

Mrs.  Hill,  head  of  the  Philadelphia  school,  once  visited  the 
school,  and  said  she  had  never  seen  a  class  so  well  trained  in 
linear  drawing.  And  no  wonder  —  for  five  or  six  hours  of  each 
day,  for  six  months,  the  pupils  had  done  nothing  else.  The  first 
class  who  entered  were  mostly  girls  who  were  eager  for  self-sup 
port  ;  there  was  abundant  talent  among  them,  and  they  were 

stimulated  to  the  utmost  degree  by  Mr.  Wli 's  promises. 

But  the  second  class  contained  several  pupils  of  a  rather  differ 
ent  position,  who  yet  had  a  desire  to  obtain  some  means  of 
earning,  as  a  future  need.  Among  them  were  some  intimate 
friends  of  mine,  such  as  Abby  W.  May,  Augusta  E.  Curtis,  etc. 
They  had  a  very  keen  sense  of  humor,  and  soon  saw  through  the 
thin  veneering  of  Mr.  Wh 's  follies.  My  position  as  Secre 
tary,  of  course,  made  it  improper  for  me  to  join  in  their  fun  ; 
but  it  was  pretty  hard  work  sometimes  to  keep  from  laughing 
at  the  stories  they  brought  me.  The  jests  of  this  class  only 
intensified  the  admiration  of  the  first  class,  who  became  so 
excited  that  they  could  hardly  speak  civilly  to  the  committee. 
I  said  of  one  of  them,  that  "  I  felt  as  if  she  threw  a  hatchet 
at  me  every  time  I  spoke  to  her."  The  committee  remonstrated 

with  Mr.  Wh on  his  unpunctuality,  and  taking  his  time  for 

other  purposes,  which  so  incensed  him  that  he  made  a  public 
speech  to  the  school,  in  which  he  said  the  committee  "  were 
trying  to  harness  his  brain  ; "  comparing  them  to  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  as  the  greatest  of  tyrants.  This  could  not  be  allowed  to 
pass,  and  his  withdrawal  was  suggested,  when  he  came  down  in 
the  most  abject  manner,  signing  a  paper  which  I  was  almost 
ashamed  of  anybody's  accepting. 

Finally  Mr.  Wh decided  to  start  a  school  of  his  own, 


THE    SCHOOL   OF   DESIGN.  75 

promising  the  girls  that  after  a  few  months  spent  with  him  they 
would  all  be  able  to  be  earning  great  bonanzas  for  themselves. 
One  of  the  earliest  pupils  of  the  school  was  Miss  Clark,  of  whom 
I  have  spoken  in  my  memoir  of  my  husband.  We  had  made 
her  an  assistant  teacher,  and  we  were  now  anxious  to  know 

whether  she  wished  to  remain  with  us  or  to  follow  Mr.  Wh . 

She  had  maintained  such  a  perfectly  calm,  respectful  attitude 
to  all,  that  I  did  not  know  what  her  feelings  might  be,  but 
on  talking  with  her  found  that  there  was  no  doubt  in  her 
mind ;  she  had  seen  through  the  teacher  as  clearly  as  Mr. 
W himself. 

Mr.  Wh started  a  school ;  but  it  was  abandoned  at  the  end 

of  a  few  months.  As  soon  as  he  was  left  alone  he  fully  demon 
strated  his  shallowness  and  incompeteucy.  A  fine  young 
artist,  Mr.  Albert  Bellows,  took  charge  of  our  school,  and  we 
re-opened  in  October.  Many  of  the  first  class  came  back,  and  I 
never  saw  a  set  of  more  mortified  and  disappointed  faces  than 
they  presented. 

Our  great  difficulty  in  conducting  the  school  was  in  finding  a 
teacher  who  had  practical  knowledge  of  designing  for  manu 
facturers.  We  found  occupation  for  a  few  pupils  in  carpets  and 
wall-paper  designing,  etc.  Mr.  Bellows  wished  to  devote  him 
self  to  his  art,  and  was  succeeded  by  Mr.  Tuckerman.  At  that 
time  I  had  married  and  gone  to  Europe,  and  had  resigned  my 
position  in  the  school. 

At  one  time  we  had  a  most  delightful  committee,  having  in 
addition  to  the  original  members,  James  Russell  Lowell,  Charles 
E.  Norton,  Abby  W.  May,  and  Julia  Ward  Howe.  Our  discus 
sions  were  sometimes  as  lively  and  entertaining  as  a  literary 
club. 

The  school  as  an  experiment  was  perhaps  premature ;  but  it 
showed  the  great  amount  of  talent  among  American  women. 
William  Furness  said  once,  when  he  took  charge  as  a  teacher  a 
short  time,  "  These  young  women  come  in  with  such  an  amount 


76  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

of  talent  that  I  could  tear  my  hair  for  envy ;  but  they  don't 
know  the  first  thing  ! " 

Among  those  who  distinguished  themselves  in  art  were  Miss 
Ellen  Bobbins,  Margaret  Foley,  and  Mrs.  Ohlenhauser,  who, 
however,  gave  up  her  art  to  nurse  the  soldiers  in  the  Rebellion. 

I  knew  Miss  Phinney  (Mrs.  Ohlenhauser)  at  the  school, 
where  she  was  considered  as  the  best  designer  in  the  class.  I 
have  regretted  very  much  that  I  have  lost  sight  of  her  through 
her  interesting  career.  She  died  in  1902. 

I  think  this  school  was  one  of  the  failures  that  enriched  the 
ground  for  success. 

At  a  later  period  the  Lowell  School  of  Design  was  established 
in  connection  with  The  Institute  of  Technology,  open  to  both 
sexes,  which  has  done  and  is  doing  good  work. 

As  fellow- workers  at  the  School  of  Design  I  first  came  into 
intimate  friendship  with  one  who  became  ever  after  one  of  my 
dearest  and  closest  companions.  It  will  be  in  vain  for  me  to 
attempt  an  adequate  analysis  and  description  of  this  rich  and' 
remarkable  nature,  for  her  sensitive  delicacy  shrinks  from  pub 
licity  and  even  from  remarks,  and  only  from  the  sense  of 
duty  as  reporting  important  facts,  and  pregnant  relations  to 
deep  principles  would  she  consent  to  the  meagre  account  which 
I  shall  dare  to  preserve  even  in  this  semi-private  publication. 

Her  mental  and  spiritual  powers  have  been  preserved 
throughout  years  of  great  physical  suffering  and  mental  anxiety. 
She  has  always  maintained  her  faith  in  God  and  in  humanity. 
I  may  say  that  through  life  she  has  looked  forward  with  pas 
sionate  hope  to  the  developments  of  society  in  right  relations 
to  labor  and  capital,  to  the  harmonious  life  of  art  and  usefulness, 
to  peace  as  the  result  of  righteousness,  and  to  grand  fulfilment 
of  the  association  of  all  human  hearts.  She  is  especially 
deeply  interested  in  the  progress  of  woman  to  her  rightful  posi 
tion  as  an  independent  soul,  yet  closely  related  to  the  great 
destiny  of  man  and  the  race.  She  has  thought  deeply  and 


THE   SCHOOL  OF   DESIGN.  77 

acted  wisely  in  every  reform,  and  although  for  half  a  century 
incapable  of  active  and  prominent  part  in  any  cause,  she  has 
been  the  inspiring  thinker,  the  wise  counsellor,  and  in  all  prac 
ticable  ways  a  full  helper  in  every  good  effort. 

She  has  fulfilled  all  duties  to  her  family,  and  to  a  large  circle 
not  only  of  her  friends,  but  to  many  who  depend  upon  her  sup 
port  for  advice  and  assistance  in  the  hard  tasks  of  life.  She 
has  never  failed  in  devotion  to  her  high  ideal. 

With  the  deep  sensitiveness  of  an  artistic  nature,  she  has  found 
a  source  of  strength  and  blessing  in  the  beauty  of  Nature,  in  lit 
erature,  in  art,  and  in  music ;  and  thus  her  life  is  rounded  with 
beauty.  But  dearest  of  all  has  she  found  friendships  which  have 
lasted  through  life,  and  affections  which  have  gone  on  through 
the  immortal  life.  Keen  wit  and  good-natured*  humor  have 
helped  over  many  a  dreary  period,  and  she  takes  a  merry  joke 
as  kindly  as  she  gives  it. 

But  the  especial  point  of  interest  lies  in  the  remarkable 
power  of  extreme  sensitiveness  which  enables  her  to  gather 
the  impressions  of  a  letter  which  she  does  not  read,  and  whose 
author  is  unknown  to  her.  She  does  not  suppose  this  power  to 
be  a  peculiar  gift  to  herself  alone,  but  regards  all  persons  as 
capable  of  the  same  power  in  different  degrees.  How  closely 
this  extreme  sensitiveness  may  be  connected  with  her  state 
of  health  I  shall  not  attempt  to  decide,  but  I  am  confident 
that  this  insight  into  the  minds  of  other  natures  is  also  very 
closely  related  to  her  highly  intellectual  powers,  to  an  im 
agination  which  rounds  the  whole  from  any  part,  and  from  a 
spiritual  sympathy  which,  like  the  poet  Allston,  found  every 
face  interesting.  In  addition  to  this  is  a  high  moral  nature 
and  a  scrupulous  conscience  which  will  never  allow  her  to  reap 
any  outward  advantage  from  the  exercise  of  her  marvellous 
powers. 

She  makes  no  claim  for  certainty  in  her  revelations,  but  is 
fully  aware  that  they  are  subject  to  many  conditions  of  mind, 


78  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW  CHENEY. 

and  to  great  limitations  from  the  imperfection  of  language  and 
her  own  state  of  perception. 

I  have  known  several  others  who  have  experienced  this 
power  with  more  or  less  success,  but  I  have  never  met  any  one 
who  so  clearly  and  distinctively  represented  the  personality 
perceived  by  her.  I  do  not  myself  easily  accept  the  marvellous, 
and  during  this  intimate  acquaintance  for  fifty  years  with  these 
facts  I  have  applied  to  them  every  test  that  I  could  use,  and  I 
am  thoroughly  satisfied  that  through  her  readings  she  does  man 
ifest  a  true  and  deep  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  men  and 
women  with  whom  she  has  entered  into  relation.  Sometimes 
she  perceives  outward  and  physical  facts,  which  may  be  more 
immediately  convincing,  but  the  deep  knowledge  of  the  heart 
and  soul  as  revealed  by  her  is  the  most  satisfactory  assurance  of 
her  insight. 

She  was  first  aroused  to  possession  of  this  power  by  the 
experiments  of  Dr.  J.  E.  Buchanan,  whom  she  esteems  as  a 
great  original  thinker  whose  genius  has  not  been  fully  under- 
derstood  and  accepted,  but  who,  as  she  believes,  will  reveal 
great  truths  in  physical  and  metaphysical  science  to  the  coming 
generations. 

She  has  thus  read  by  psychological  examinations  the  letters 
of  many  celebrated  persons.  Her  method  of  reading  is  to  take 
the  letter  entirely  without  reading  it  or  knowing  of  the  writer. 
She  sometimes  holds  it  in  her  hands  or  presses  it  to  her  fore 
head.  Although  she  is  interested  in  chirography,  she  does  not 
help  the  reading  this  way.  She  often  goes  on  talking  with 
other  people  freely,  and  makes  a  remark  when  any  word  of  sug 
gestion  from  the  letter  comes  to  her.  Sometimes  she  gets  very 
little,  but  at  other  times  she  is  so  thoroughly  possessed  with 
the  character  that  she  feels  she  has  gained  a  new  friend. 

She  readily  recognizes  the  physical  states  of  the  writers,  and 
is  painfully  impressed  by  the  sympathy  with  sick  and  suffering 
people.  * 


THE   SCHOOL  OF   DESIGN.  79 

One  of  her  most  remarbable  readings  was  a  letter  by  the  first 
wife  of  Mr.  Lewes.  I  asked  for  the  privilege  of  taking  Mrs. 
Lewes's  letter  to  her.  She  knew  nothing  of  the  writer.  She 
was  drawn  most  affectionately  to  her,  recognized  her  charming 
qualities,  and  felt  that  whatever  faults  she  had  manifested  she 
had  been  conscientious  and  true  to  her  own  nature.  The  letter 
referred  not  at  all  to  the  troubles  of  her  married  life,  but  was 
written  to  a  friend  in  America  on  her  birthday,  describing 
each  of  her  children.  It  was  a  most  affectionate,  bright  letter, 
analyzing  each  one  of  the  children  and  delighting  in  their  pros 
pects  in  life. 

Miss  P gives  her  own  account  of  this  peculiar  phe 
nomenon  : 

"  It  is  the  simple,  natural  use  of  a  natural  power,  and  like  all  other 
natural  powers  is  at  its  best  estate  when  the  health  is  best.  There 
is  nothing  weird  or  marvellous  about  it.  We  are  all  like  sensitive 
plates  constantly  receiving  impressions,  only  we  do  not  heed  them  —  do 
not  develop  them,  as  a  general  rule.  Perhaps  they  belong  to  those 
1  unused  areas  of  the  brain '  which  psychologists  prate  about.  Dr. 
Joseph  R.  Buchanan,  —  himself  both  sensitive  and  magnetic  and 
devoted  to  the  study  of  the  human  being  —  first  felt  that  the  spirit 
ual  aura,  which  like  the  insensible  perspiration  is  forever  passing  from 
us,  was  especially  outflowing  when  brain,  heart,  and  hand  were  active 
in  writing.  I  do  not  know  what  led  him  at  first  to  realize  that  sensi 
tive  persons,  by  coming  in  contact  with  this  aura,  could  relate  them 
selves  to  its  source.  He  soon  found,  in  all  places,  many  or  few  who 
were  interested  in  experimenting  with  the  new  direction  of  a  natural 
gift.  Sensitiveness  is  a  not  uncommon  peculiarity  of  temperament, 
varying  in  degree  and  character." 

The  personal  equation  has  always  to  be  considered  in  ac 
cepting  any  impression  —  as  is  shown  markedly  by  the  different 
readings  from  the  same  letter.* 

*  See  Appendix, 


80         REMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH  DOW  CHENEY. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   FREEDMEN'S   WORK. 

"  When  such  musick  sweet 
Their  hearts  and  ears  did  greet, 

As  never  was  by  mortall  finger  strook, 
Divinely  warbled  voice 
Answering  the  stringed  noise, 

As  all  their  souls  in  blissful  rapture  took  : 
The  air  such  pleasure  loth  to  lose, 
With  thousand  echoes  still  prolongs  each  heav'uly  close." 

MILTON. 

rFHE  anti-slavery  work  now  became  more  and  more  impor 
tant.  I  shall  not  speak  of  the  general  course  of  events 
which  belongs  to  the  history  of  the  country,  but  especially  of 
some  very  remarkable  women  whom  I  knew  intimately.  The 
first  of  these  was  Harriet  Jacobs,  who  was  born  a  slave  in  North 
Carolina,  and  who  suffered  in  her  own  person  all  the  terrible 
evils  of  a  beautiful  young  girl  as  house  servant.  Through  in 
credible  suffering  she  escaped  from  slavery.  For  almost  seven 
years  she  was  concealed  in  a  small  loft  where  she  could  neither 
stand  erect  nor  move  with  any  freedom.  She  has  herself  told 
the  history  of  her  life,  under  the  name  of  "  Linda,"  *  but  the 
book  is  now  out  of  print,  and  very  scarce.  She  came  to  New 
York,  and  was  received  into  the  family  of  the  poet,  N.  P.  Willis. 
Here  she  was  treated  with  every  kindness,  and  became  a  trusted 
and  beloved  member  of  the  family.  She  was  a  woman  of  great 

*  Linda,  the  Autobiography  of  a  Slave  Woman. 


ANTI-SLAVERY   AND   FREEDMEN'S    WORK.  81 

refinement  and  sweetness  of  character.  She  was  equally  ac 
cepted  by  Mr.  Willis's  first  and  second  wives.  She  was  Mrs. 
Willis's  friend  and  confidante  through  many  troubles,  and  she 
received  from  her  during  her  own  long  and  most  painful  sick 
ness  most  tender  care  and  kindness.  Her  book  should  be 
preserved  as  a  faithful  picture  of  what  slavery  was  to  woman. 
She  filled  many  important  and  respectable  positions  —  was 
teacher  of  the  freedmen  at  one  time,  and  at  another  time  kept 
a  boarding-house  at  Cambridge  for  Harvard  students,  and  was 
employed  as  matroi\of  the  New  England  Women's  Club.  She 
died  in  1899. 

Another  more  picturesque  person  was  Harriet  Tubman.  Her 
life  has  also  been  written.*  She  was  a  slave  in  Maryland,  but 
escaped  from  her  master  and  went  to  Philadelphia,  where  she 
supported  herself  by  cooking.  She  laid  up  money,  bought  a 
nice  suit  of  clothes,  and  went  back  after  her  husband,  who  she 
found  had,  according  to  slave  custom,  taken  another  wife  at  his 
master's  command.  She  then  devoted  herself  to  getting  away 
all  the  slaves  to  convey  them  to  freedom.  She  went  down  seven 
or  eight  times,  and  brought  away  companies  of  slaves.  Her  life 
was  full  of  the  most  wonderful  adventures,  and  she  accomplished 
her  work  with  the  greatest  skill  and  courage.  Gerritt  Smith 
said  "  she  showed  all  the  qualities  of  a  great  general."  She 
could  neither  read  nor  write  ;  but  she  could  tell  her  course  by 
the  stars,  or,  when  they  failed,  to  her  — 

"  The  moss  upon  the  bark 

Was  pole  star  when  the  night  was  dark."       (Emerson.) 

After  the  fugitive  slave  law  was  passed,  she  was  obliged  to 
take  her  little  band  to  Canada,  where  she  established  a  colony 
at  St.  Catherine's. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  eloquence  of  her  expression  011  the 
day  when  John  Brown's  men  were  executed.  "  It 's  cla'r  to 

*  Harriet  —  The  Moses  of  her  People.     By  Sarah  H.  Bradford. 


82  REMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

me,"  she  said,  "  that  it  was  n't  John  Brown  that  was  hung  on 
that  gallows  —  it  was  God  in  him."  And  again, "  When  I  think 
of  the  prayers  and  groans  I've  heard  on  dein  plantations,  an' 
'member  dat  God 's  a  prayer-hearing  God,  I  feel  dat  His  time  is 
near."  "Then  you  feel  that  'God's  time'*  is  near?"  said  I. 
"  God's  time  is  always  near,"  she  replied.  "  He  set  de  Norf  Star 
in  de  heavens ;  He  gave  me  de  strength  in  my  limbs ;  He  meant 
I  should  be  free."  Her  first  prayer  was,  "  God  make  me  strong 
and  able  to  fight,"  —  and  it  was  answered.  But  she  did  n't 
fight  for  herself  alone,  but  for  all  her  race.  Once,  when  on 
board  a  steamboat,  the  clerk  refused  to  give  her  tickets  for  a 
moment,  and  she  feared  she  was  discovered.  She  said :  "  I  sat 
down  in  de  bow  of  de  boat,  arid  I  said,  '  0  Lord  !  you  know  who 
I  am,  and  wha'r  I  am,  and  what  I  want,' "  and  three  times  she 
did  this ;  and  then  the  clerk  touched  her  on  the  shoulder  and 
said,  "  Here 's  your  tickets." 

She  had  a  natural  love  for  beauty  and  art,  especially  in  sculpture. 
I  never  left  her  alone  a  little  while  in  my  room  but  I  found 
her  standing  in  admiration  before  a  cast  or  a  picture,  and  she 
was  overwhelmed  with  delight  at  the  present  of  a  little  statue. 
She  said  she  had  visions  of  these  things  when  in  the  woods,  and 
she  saw  all  the  ladies  she  afterward  met,  holding  out  their  hands 
to  her  to  come  across  the  line  into  freedom.  Her  biographer 
dwells  much  on  her  spiritual  perception  and  her  faith  in  the 
immediate  help  of  the  Lord.  These  were  consistent  with  the 
greatest  practical  sense.  The  native  power  of  mind  and  imag 
ination,  not  developing  by  the  usual  means  of  education,  became 
so  keen  and  perfect  that  they  acted  in  the  way  of  intuition, 
which  may  be  a  kind  of  prophecy.  She  is  now,  in  her  old  age, 
living  at  Auburn,  taking  care  of  all  the  old  colored  people  that 
come  in  her  way.  In  1899  she  was  baptized  in  the  Baptist 
church,  for  the  first  time.  She  was  in  Boston  about  two  years 

*  "  God's  time  "  meant  Emancipation. 


ANTI-SLAVERY   AND   FREEDMEN*S   WORK.  83 

ago,  at  a  meetiug  where  she  attracted  a  great  deal  of  attention 
by  her  earnestness  and  originality.* 

In  1861  the  war  began,  and  every  other  interest  was  swal 
lowed  up  in  it ;  even  non-resistant  principles  gave  way  before 
it.  I  believe  Samuel  J.  May  was  the  only  person  who  fully 
maintained  them.  It  was  a  new  sight  in  Boston  to  see  a  regi 
ment  mustering  on  the  Common  on  Sunday  morning,  while  the 
chimes  rang  out  from  Arlington  Street  steeple  "  Joy  to  the 
world  —  the  Lord  is  come."  I  had  no  near  friends  in  the  army, 
but  I  shared  in  all  the  anxiety  during  the  terrible  defeats  of  the 
first  years  of  the  war.  But  when  at  last  it  was  decided  to  enlist 
the  colored  men  in  the  regiments,  I  took  a  more  active  part.  I 
was  secretary  of  a  committee  to  give  such  comforts  as  were 
not  furnished  by  the  government  to  the  regiment  under  Colonel 
Shaw's  command.  The  troops  were  encamped  at  Eeadville  for 
drill,  and  we  sent  them  various  helps,  such  as  stoves,  and,  al 
though  with  some  reluctance,  we  added  tobacco,  thinking  that  as 
its  use  had  become  a  second  nature,  it  was  hard  to  refuse  it  at  such 
a  time.  I  went  out  occasionally  to  see  the  troops,  and  I  shall 
never  forget  the  picture  of  the  young  colonel  in  his  fair  beauty  ? 
which  seemed  almost  angelic,  as  his  clear,  sweet  voice  rang  out 
over  the  plain.  It  could  be  distinctly  heard,  although  evidently 
not  raised.  We  furnished  a  flag  to  the  regiment,  on  which  was 
David  Scott's  picture  of  a  Christian  Warrior,  which  Colonel 
Shaw  himself  approved.  I  went  out  to  see  the  bestowal  of  the 
flags,  of  which  four  were  given.  The  Freed  men's  Society  sent 
out  teachers  to  the  men  at  Readville.  I  accompanied  them.  It 
was  a  most  interesting  work.  The  men  were  of  every  grade  of 
intelligence,  but  were  all  eager  to  learn.  As  we  had  but  little 
time,  we  tried  to  teach  them  to  read  the  New  Testament,  in 
which  they  had  great  delight.  I  said  :  "  When  you  are  in  camp 


*  The  romantic  story  of  William  and  Ellen  Crafts  was  well  known  to  me,  but 
Miss  Child  has  recorded  it  well  in  ';  The  Freedmen's  Book." 


84  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

won't  you  like  to  meet  together  and  read  and  sing  your  hymns?" 
"We  always  do,"  was  the  reply.  They  were  immensely  im 
pressed  by  the  ladies  who  came  through  storm  and  rain  to 
teach  them,  and  showed  their  reverence  and  respect  in  every 
way.  "  Won't  you  take  my  india  rubber  coat  ? "  said  one  of 
them  to  me  in  a  driving  storm  —  "it's  new,  ma'am;  I've  never 
worn  it."  But  they  were  keen  observers,  too,  and  mocked 
heartily  at  a  pompous  English  captain  who  was  appointed  to 
drill  them  —  but  who  held  them  in  extreme  contempt. 

A  little  after,  the  regiment  passed  through  Jamaica  Plain,  and 
we  went  down  to  the  station  to  see  it,  and  cheered  ourselves 
hoarse  as  they  passed.  Then  we  went  into  Boston,  and  from  a 
window  in  Tremont  Street  saw  the  passage  of  the  regiment.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  whole  impression  of  the  scene ;  and  as  the 
heroic  mother  looked  on  her  fair-haired  boy  thus  leading  this 
army  of  heroes,  she  said,  "  What  have  I  done  that  God  should 
be  so  good  to  me  ? "  A  month  from  that  day  he  died  at  the 
head  of  his  troop,  and  she  telegraphed,  "  Lay  him  where  he  fell, 
with  his  men  around  him."  I  afterwards  saw  the  brave  ser 
geant  who  held  up  the  colors  after  he  was  wounded  and  fell, 
and  he  said  of  Colonel  Shaw  :  "  We  would  have  followed  him 
anywhere  —  we  knew  he  only  meant  our  good."  His  worthy 
monument  is  set  up  opposite  the  State  House.  Every  face  of 
the  troop  that  surrounds  him  is  the  face  of  a  hero,  and  they  will 
speak  through  all  coming  times  for  justice  and  right  to  the 
negro. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  days  I  remember  was  when  the 
troops  returned  to  be  mustered  out  after  the  war  was  over.  I 
went  to  one  of  the  islands  in  the  harbor  to  see  again  the  men  of 
my  class.  It  was  a  glorious  winter  day,  with  the  bright,  white 
snow  covering  all  the  island.  I  called  over  the  names,  and  the 
response  "  Present "  was  made  and  a  glad  greeting  followed,  or 
a  tribute  of  respect  to  those  who  had  met  a  soldier's  death  — 
but  very  deep  and  sad  were  the  groans  for  the  few  who  had 


ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   FREEDMEN'S   WORK.  85 

deserted.  This  regiment,  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  never  went  into 
battle. 

It  was  my  privilege  to  enter  into  the  great  work  of  educating 
the  freedmen  of  that  day.  I  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  Hannah 
Stevenson,  who  called  me  to  her  side  to  aid  in  this  great  cause, 
and  upon  her  resignation  I  became  Secretary  of  the  Teachers' 
Committee.  It  was  a  work  full  of  the  most  profound  interest, 
and  gave  me  an  intimate  acquaintance,  not  only  with  the  people 
who  were  just  escaping  from  slavery,  but  with  the  noble  band 
of  workers  who  so  unselfishly  devoted  themselves  to  the  cause. 
I  did  not  go  in^o  the  schools  myself  as  teacher,  but  was  engaged 
here  in  organizing  and  arranging  them. 

The  eagerness  of  the  teachers  who  flocked  to  the  work  made 
it  very  hard  to  refuse  any  of  them.  I  remember  one  lady  who 
said  she  "  had  come  for  ten  years,  and  we  refused  her  because  she 
was  too  young ; "  she  was  indeed  one  of  those  people  wTho  never 
grow  old.  On  our  committee  were  Mr.  Edward  Hooper,  Treas 
urer,  Miss  Abby  W.  May,  Mr.  William  C.  Gannett,  Miss  Han 
nah  Stevenson,  Mrs.  Ellen  Gurney,  Mrs.  Jonathan  Lane,  Mr. 
John  Parkman,  and  above  all,  Miss  Lucretia  Crocker.  It  was 
indeed  a  pleasure  to  work  with  such  people,  and  our  weekly 
meetings  at  the  Studio  Building  were  full  of  the  warmest  inter 
est,  and  wit  and  pathos  were  equally  abundant  in  the  stories  of 
our  teachers. 

We  had  one  delightful  occasion  every  year,  when  the  teachers 
returned  from  their  work.  They  were  eager  to  see  the  people 
who  had  befriended  them,  and  the  societies  who  each  supported 
one  or  more  teachers  were  desirous  to  meet  them ;  so  we  took  a 
hall  and  invited  all  to  meet  at  a  freednien's  reunion.  The 
teachers  were  hungry  to  hear  some  good  speaking,  after  their 
dearth  at  the  South,  while  the  home  people  were  equally  anx 
ious  to  hear  the  account  of  their  work.  Mr.  Garrison  some 
times  presided,  but  Mr.  Higginson  was  the  usual  chairman,  and 
his  bright  sallies  of  introduction  delighted  the  teachers,  who  had 


86  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

heard  nothing  but  untutored  colored  ministers  for  so  long  a 
time.  That  everybody  might  recognize  the  teachers,  they  were 
called  to  the  platform  one  by  one,  and  named  to  the  audience, 
and  presented  with  a  bouquet  by  a  trio  of  little  girls,  Eva 
Channing,  Eleanor  May,  and  my  own  Margaret.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  beaming  look  with  which  Mr.  Higginson  gave  the 
little  gifts  to  his  young  aids,  and  the  delight  with  which  the 
teachers  received  them,  and  the  smiles  of  the  young  girls.  A 
simple  banquet  of  ice-cream  and  cake  was  not  unwelcome  after 
their  somewhat  restricted  diet  in  the  South.  I  remember  a 
bright  young  negro  teacher  from  Maryland,  whose  school  we  felt 
obliged  to  give  up,  who  said :  "  Mrs.  Cheney  said  she  found  it 
almost  impossible  to  give  up  any  school  which  she  had  visited 
in  the  South,  and  the  only  reason  our  school  was  given  up 
was  because  Mrs.  Cheney  had  not  visited  it."  I  went  several 
times  to  the  South  to  visit  the  schools ;  on  the  first  occasion 
Miss  May  and  I  were  delegates  to  a  convention  in  Baltimore  to 
elect  a  president  for  the  united  societies.  We  were  always 
uniting  societies  and  changing  constitutions,  and  half  the  time 
did  not  know  what  our  real  title  was.  It  was  a  good  deal  of  a 
puzzle  to  our  entertainers,  who  were,  by  the  way,  a  most  admir 
able  set  of  men,  but  had  not  yet  outgrown  all  their  prejudices, 
to  have  two  women  and  a  colored  brother  on  the  list  of  dele 
gates.  The  first  evening  there  was  a  public  meeting  at  the 
large  theatre,  and  the  colored  brother,  a  Methodist  bishop  in 
high  standing,  was  treated  with  great  respect,  and  invited  to 
make  a  prayer,  and  the  ladies  were  also  well  received,  although 
not  asked  to  speak.  But  on  the  following  afternoon,  after  the 
business  meeting,  a  banquet  was  to  conclude  the  exercises,  and 
here  the  dilemma  was  felt,  —  what  was  to  be  done  with  two 
ladies  at  a  gentlemen's  banquet,  and  still  worse,  how  could  a 
colored  man,  although  good  enough  to  address  the  Almighty,  sit 
down  at  a  table  with  white  men  ?  The  difficulty  was  solved  in 
the  case  of  the  ladies  by  an  invitation  to  tea  from  Mrs.  Ware ; 


87 

but  I  fear  the  poor  bishop  was  left  out  in  the  cold  altogether,  — 
I  know  he  was  not  at  the  supper.  The  meeting  was  long,  and 
the  discussions  warm,  and  tea-time  was  near,  and  we  had  not 
adjourned.  We  felt  that  Mrs.  Ware  would  be  awaiting  us  and 
proposed  to  leave  the  meeting,  but  were  told  that  we  represented 
New  England,  of  which  there  was  some  jealousy,  and  it  would 
be  taken  very  ill  if  we  left.  Delighted  to  be  of  so  much  con 
sequence  we  assented  and  remained,  and  elected  Governor 
Chase  president,  and  at  nine  o'clock  we  separated.  It  was  rain 
ing  very  hard,  but  a  carriage  was  procured  for  us,  and  the  gen 
tlemen  went  on  their  way  to  their  banquet.  It  was  so  late  that 
I  thought  it  not  worth  while  to  go  to  Mrs.  Ware's,  where  Miss 
May  was  staying,  and  sending  my  compliments  by  her,  I  went 
home.  My  hostess,  supposing  me  to  be  at  Mrs.  Ware's,  had 
gone  to  a  wedding.  I  asked  the  servant  to  give  me  a  glass  of 
water  and  a  cracker,  and  went  supperless  to  bed.  The  next 
morning  I  rallied  Judge  Bond  unmercifully  on  Southern  hospi 
tality,  which  I  had  heard  so  much  praised,  and  he  told  me,  to 
comfort  me,  that  the  "  dinner  did  n't  go  off  well  at  all ;  the 
grace  was  so  long  that  it  took  away  all  appetite  for  the  meat 
that  came  after."  When  I  spoke  of  the  exclusion  of  the  col 
ored  bishop,  they  excused  themselves  on  the  ground  that  one  of 
the  regulations  of  the  club  at  which  the  dinner  was  held  was 
that  no  colored  person  should  be  admitted.  Judge  Bond,  Mr. 
Israel,  John  Graham,  Rev.  John  Ware,  and  others  of  the  same 
stamp,  started  a  society  for  educating  the  negroes  in  Maryland, 
and  asked  our  co-operation  in  the  work.  When  they  sent  out  a 
circular  appealing  to  the  churches  to  join  in  this  "  Christian  work," 
the  Jews  were  the  first,  and,  I  think,  save  possibly  the  Unita 
rians,  the  only  ones  to  respond,  and  hoped  to  be  allowed  to  help, 
although  not  Christians.  They  had  an  excellent  school  in  Bal 
timore,  and  in  many  of  the  country  towns,  and  were  unfailing 
friends  of  the  negroes. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  when  the  American  Association  of 


88  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

Women  went  to  Baltimore  several  years  later,  the  same  circle  of 
friends  received  them  most  kindly,  and  did  a  great  deal  to  fur 
ther  their  work. 

I  think  it  was  at  this  same  time  that  I  made  my  first  unex 
pected  experiment  in  speaking  in  public.  Judge  Bond  had  in 
vited  all  the  colored  people  to  their  largest  church  in  Baltimore 
to  meet  the  delegates.  It  was  crowded  full.  After  several  others 
had  spoken,  Judge  Bond,  who  was  presiding,  said :  "  Now  which 
do  you  wish  to  hear  next,  a  gentleman  or  lady  ?  "  Of  course  the 
chivalrous  audience  immediately  shouted,  "  A  lady  !  "  Then  he 
turned  to  me  and  said,  "  Mrs.  Cheney,  will  you  please  address  the 
meeting  ? "  I  was  too  much  interested  to  refuse,  and  stepped 
forward  and  said  —  T  know  not  what ;  but  my  heart  was  full  of 
sympathy,  and  theirs  of  response,  and  I  have  no  doubt  they 
applauded  as  heartily  as  if  I  had  given  them  the  wisdom  of 
Solomon.  In  fact,  the  colored  audiences  were  the  easiest  of  all 
people  to  speak  to.  They  felt  the  sympathy  that  their  hearts 
craved,  and  at  once  responded  to  it.  A  Northern  audience 
seemed  very  cold  and  indifferent  after  I  had  spoken  to  the 
colored  people,  as  I  frequently  did. 

We  went  on  to  Washington,  but  were  prevented  from  going 
further  South  by  the  rains,  which  were  so  severe  as  to  cause  a 
great  deal  of  damage.  Another  time  I  went  as  far  as  Rich 
mond,  and  saw  the  schools  at  the  Old  Bakery,  and  the  admi 
rable  work  of  Bessy  Canedy  and  Abby  Francis. 

When  Richmond  was  first  taken,  Lucy  and  Sarah  Chase,  who 
were  then  stationed  at  Norfolk,  where  Miss  Stevenson  was 
visiting  them,  went  up  to  Richmond,  and  opening  the  largest 
colored  church  in  the  city,  summoned  the  people  to  come 
thither  and  hear  about  the  plans  for  schools  for  them.  The 
building  was  thronged  to  its  utmost  capacity,  and  the  enthu 
siasm  went  beyond  all  bounds.  This  was  freedom  indeed  !  In 
stead  of  being  forbidden  to  read  and  write,  here  were  friends 
coming  and  asking  the  boon  of  teaching  them.  Young  and  old 


ANTI-SLAVERY    AND   FREEDMEN'S    WORK.  89 

flocked  to  the  schools.  We  sent  thither  our  best  teachers,  who 
saw  at  once  the  importance  of  selecting  the  most  promising 
pupils  and  forming  graded  schools.  The  old  people  learned  to 
give  up  the  hope  for  themselves,  but  rejoiced  that  it  was  secured 
for  their  children. 

I  can  never  do  justice  to  the  devotion  and  heroism  of  the 
teachers,  and  one  little  anecdote  shows  the  feeling  of  the  people 
for  them.  Miss  Francis  and  others  were  met  by  some  colored 
women,  who  spoke  to  them  as  teachers.  "  How  did  you  know 
that  we  were  teachers  ?  "  they  said.  "  0  Honey,  we  knows  ye 
by  de  heavenly  light  in  yo'  faces  ! " 

A  year  or  two  later  the  society  wished  to  have  a  thorough 
inspection  of  the  schools  which  it  was  most  important  to  re 
tain,  as  our  funds  were  diminishing.  We  had  sent  down  one 
man  as  agent,  but  we  were  not  satisfied  with  the  result.  Miss 
Crocker  and  I  offered  to  go  if  our  expenses  were  paid.  I 
decided  to  take  my  young  daughter  with  me,  then  about 
thirteen  years  old.  It  was  the  most  memorable  journey  of  my 
life.  Whenever  practicable,  we  stayed  at  the  teachers'  homes,  and 
thus  became  acquainted  fully  with  their  lives  and  work.  We 
sailed  directly  for  Savannah.  We  stayed  at  the  hotel  there,  and 
found  the  spirit  very  bitter  towards  Northern  people.  We 
carried  a  package  from  a  lady  in  the  North  to  a  lady  to  whom 
she  had  been  very  kind.  It  was  necessary  that  the  latter 
should  receive  the  package  in  person.  She  called  upon  us  at 
the  hotel ;  but  her  courtesy  extended  no  further.  She  seemed 
only  anxious  to  get  away  with  her  package,  and  did  n't  even 
advise  us  as  to  the  pleasant  walks  in  the  city.  We  left  at  night 
for  Columbus,  where  we  had  a  fine  school.  It  was  in  April,  and 
we  had  left  deep  snow  at  home,  and  oh !  how  beautiful  the 
hedges  of  Cherokee  Roses  appeared  in  bloom.  This  school, 
which  was  of  our  first  grade,  was  taught  by  two  teachers,  Miss 
Caroline  Alfred  and  Miss  Lee,  ladies  of  great  refinement,  and 
here  we  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  little  of  Southern  life. 


90  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

The  postmaster,  Colonel  Hogan,  was  disposed  to  be  very  polite 
to  us,  as  he  was  of  course  a  Union  man  and  a  Kepublican,  and 
he  had  the  idea  that  we  had  great  influence  at  Washington  and 
could  further  his  political  aspirations  for  office.  Although  an 
ignorant  man,  he  was  intelligent,  and  with  the  help  of  his  son,  I 
have  no  doubt  made  a  very  good  postmaster.  He  came  to  us, 
like  Nicodemus,  by  night,  not  wishing  it  to  be  known.  He  was 
eloquent  upon  his  sufferings  for  the  Union,  and  told  how  his 
daughter  was  ostracized  from  all  society.  Miss  Crocker  said  a 
little  maliciously  she  "  must  find  our  teachers  a  great  resource, 
they  are  such  fine,  intelligent  women."  "Oh  !  Lord  bless  you," 
he  replied,  "  her  own  relations  would  n't  speak  to  her  if  she  had 
anything  to  do  with  them." 

We  came  slowly  up  North,  visiting  schools  by  the  way,  and 
spent  a  delightful  week  with  Miss  Botume  at  Ladies'  Island, 
Beaufort.  She  lived  on  the  old  Fort  plantation,  and  we  ap 
proached  it  by  moonlight  through  a  beautiful  avenue  of  live-oak 
trees  hung  with  the  Southern  moss,  which  made  a  delightful 
contrast  with  the  green  foliage.  We  felt  as  if  we  were  entering 
a  cathedral  as  we  passed  under  the  green  shades,  and  they  told 
us  that  good  old  Dr.  Gannett  spontaneously  took  off  his  hat  in 
reverence  as  he  entered  them.  This  was  the  same  plantation 
which  Nehemiah  Adams  visited  when  he  painted  his  "  South 
Side  View  of  Slavery,"  and  the  beautiful  patriarchal  life  which  he 
saw  there ;  but  the  negroes  said  that  the  master  had  been  one 
of  the  hardest  and  most  cruel  masters  in  the  South.  Glad 
enough  they  were  to  exchange  his  control  for  the  wise,  kind  care 
of  Miss  Botume,  who  for  more  than  forty  years  (1900)  has  been 
their  teacher  and  their  friend.  The  island  had  been  stripped  of 
everything,  and  the  only  beast  of  burden  on  it  when  we  were 
there,  was  poor  little  "  Button "  who  took  us  around  the 
island  and  to  the  boat*  We  also  visited  Miss  Towne's  school, 

*  First  Days  among  the  Contrabands.  By  Elizabeth  Hyde  Botume.  Lee 
&  Sbepard,  1893. 


ANTI-SLAVERY   AND  FREEDMEN'S   WORK.  91 

on  St.  Helena,  one  of  the  best  schools.      It  was  carried  on  by  her 
own  means. 

Our  journey  was  attended  with  many  curious  incidents ; 
the  colored  people  all  turned  out  to  meet  us  when  we  arrived, 
the  children  begging  for  something  to  "tote,"  and  our  baggage 
was  carried  off  piecemeal,  by  we  knew  not  whom ;  but  it 
always  appeared  at  our  destination.  When  we  went  away 
the  same  crowd  attended  us  to  the  station,  bringing  us  fre 
quently  luncheon  in  a  paper  bag,  such  as  sweet-potato  pie,  or  a 
plate  of  honey,  or  other  things  convenient  to  carry ! 

On  one  occasion  we  went  to  a  boarding-house  to  which  we 
were  recommended  by  a  Bureau  officer  who  boarded  there.  At 
this  place  we  had  two  teachers  who  were  very  light-colored  men, 
who  were  born  free,  and  had  a  fairly  good  education.  One  of 
them  was  then  in  the  legislature ;  the  other  was,  I  think,  post 
master.  When  we  arrived  in  the  town  one  of  them  met  us  at 

the  station.      Mr.  W ,  the  Bureau  officer,  was  with  us ;  but 

there  was  trouble  about  our  baggage,  which  had  gone  astray,  and 
he  forgot  to  introduce  us.  The  teacher  looked  so  nearly  white 
that  we  did  not  dare  to  address  him  as  a  teacher,  as  it  would 
have  been  a  mortal  insult  if  he  had  been  a  white  man.  He 
looked  rather  grieved  at  the  omission,  until  Mr.  W re 
covered  his  senses  and  introduced  Mr.  Haynes  to  us.  He  then 
walked  along  with  us,  talking  of  the  school,  etc.,  and  when 
we  arrived  at  the  house  Miss  Crocker  innocently  said,  "  Won't 
you  walk  in?"  —  and  he  refused.  She  urged  him,  saying,  "I 
want  to  talk  about  the  exhibition  to-morrow.5'  He  then  came  in, 
and  sat  perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  talking  about  the  schools. 

Soon  after  the  landlady  came  and   told  Mr.  W that   she 

had  n't  any  room  for  him ;  but  we  said  that  we  could  give  up 
one  of  our  rooms,  as  there  were  two  beds  in  one  room,  and  we 
could  sleep  together.  She  then  informed  us  that  they  had 
typhoid  fever  in  the  house,  —  not  a  very  comfortable  thing  to 
know ;  but  as  we  had  no  other  place  to  stay  in,  we  concluded  to 


92  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

brave  the  danger.  We  told  her  on  retiring  that  we  should  like 
breakfast  at  eight  o'clock.  The  next  morning  before  seven 
o'clock,  the  girl  came  in  and  informed  us  that  breakfast  was 
ready.  We  had  not  begun  to  dress,  and  told  her  that  we  could 
not  possibly  be  ready  in  less  than  three  quarters  of  an  hour. 
When  we  went  down  about  eight  we  were  kept  waiting  some  time, 
and  then  shown  into  a  room  where  one  man  was  sitting  at  the 
table  eating  his  breakfast.  He  immediately  got  up  in  an  angry 
manner  and  left.  We  sat  down  and  ate  our  breakfast,  which  I 
must  say  was  a  very  nice  one.  I  was  alone  in  my  room  soon 

after,  when  Mr.  W came,  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  to 

know  if  we  could  pack  up  and  leave  immediately.  He  said  the 
landlady  had  ordered  us  out  of  the  house ;  that  her  boarders 
had  all  threatened  to  leave  if  we  remained,  because  we  "  had  a 
yellow  man  sit  down  in  the  house."  I  told  him  we  could 
leave  perfectly  well ;  we  could  go  over  to  the  school,  and  go 
directly  from  the  school  to  the  station,  but  charged  him  on  no 
account  to  let  the  young  men  know  what  had  occurred.  When 
Miss  Crocker  came  up  I  told  her,  and  we  consulted  about  the 
matter.  We  concluded  that  we  could  not  let  it  pass  without  an 
explanation;  and  we  sent  for  the  landlady  to  come  up  and  see 
us.  When  she  appeared,  we  addressed  her  in  the  most  polite 
terms,  and  told  her  that  we  had  no  intention  of  giving  her 
offence ;  that  at  home  when  a  gentleman  escorted  us  home  we 
always  invited  him  to  come  in,  and  had  no  idea  that  it  would  be 
any  different  there.  It  was  no  inconvenience  for  us  to  leave,  as 
we  could  go  directly  from  the  school  to  the  station.  The  poor 
woman  was  evidently  relieved  at  being  treated  with  such  mild 
ness  when  she  expected  reproach,  and  then  opened  her  heart  to 
us.  She  said  "  she  hadn't  eaten  nor  slept  since  we  had  been  in 
the  house  ;  that  she  was  dependent  on  her  boarders,  who  all  threat 
ened  to  leave  if  we  stayed."  (There  was  n't  the  slightest  danger 
of  their  leaving,  as  there  was  no  other  place  in  town.)  We  went 
over  to  the  school,  where  we  had  a  very  interesting  exhibition ; 


ANTI-SLAVERY   AND   FREEDMEN's   WORK.  93 

but   Mr.  W was  too    angry  to  keep  the    secret,    and    he 

told  Mr.  Haynes,  the  teacher.  Mr.  Haynes  was  excessively 
angry,  and  it  showed  itself  in  the  most  marked  attention  to  us 
in  every  way.  When  the  school  was  finally  dismissed,  the  entire 
negro  population  of  the  town,  fathers,  mothers,  and  children, 
all  escorted  us  to  the  station.  I  shall  never  forget  my  amuse 
ment.  Miss  Crocker,  a  very  tall,  graceful  woman,  headed  the 
procession  with  Mr.  Haynes.  His  brother,  a  very  elegant  man, 

escorted  me,  and  Mr.  W followed  with  Margaret.     When 

we  went  to  the  boarding-house,  Mr.  Haynes  chose  very  quiet 
streets  for  us  to  go  through.  But  now  we  marched  through  the 
principal  streets  of  the  town,  like  a  conquering  army ;  for  the 
men  retreated  into  their  stores,  and  the  women  peeped  out 
through  the  shutters  at  the  unwonted  sight.  So  we  shook  off 
the  dust  from  our  feet  as  we  left  the  town,  and  Margaret  exulted, 
childlike,  that  now  she  would  have  something  to  write  home 
about. 

Mr.  W -,  an  agent  of  the  Bureau,  accompanied  us  oc 
casionally.  He  was  a  pompous,  empty  man,  full  of  his  own  im 
portance,  and  with  a  sharp  eye  for  his  own  interest.  He  was  a 
specimen  of  the  class  of  men  who  got  positions  in  the  Bureau 
and  did  not  make  it  popular.  He  was,  however,  elected  to 
Congress,  from  which  he  was  finally  expelled  for  selling  West 
Point  cadetships.  We  had  been  visiting  a  school  of  great  in 
terest,  where  we  found  an  old  blind  man,  to  whom  we  had  sent  a 
part  of  the  Bible  in  raised  letters,  and  for  the  first  time  he  felt 
that  he  too  could  learn  to  read.  Miss  Crocker  gave  him  a 
lesson,  and  when  she  explained  to  him  the  meaning  of  the  first 
verses  of  Luke,  his  delight  at  finding  that  it  was  nothing  but 
plain  common-sense  was  wonderful  to  see.  It  was  a  pretty  con 
trast  to  see  the  difference  between  the  fair-haired  accomplished 
teacher,  bending  so  earnestly  over  the  page,  and  the  gray-haired 
old  scholar,  drinking  in  her  every  word  with  delight.  As  we 
left  for  the  station  the  whole  dusky  crowd  followed,  breathing 


94  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

all  manner  of  blessings  upon  us,  till  at  last  one  old  woman  called 
out  "good-bye,"  and  finally  "good-bye,  brother  Whittemore, — 
keep  the  bellows  blowing ! "  The  parting  injunction  was  so 
appropriate  that  we  could  with  difficulty  restrain  our  laughter. 
These  people  are  shrewd  observers. 

We  stayed  a  week  at  Charlottesville,  Virginia;  the  people 
seemed  very  much  touched  at  my  bringing  my  daughter  with 
me.  She  was  very  much  delighted,  and  entered  into  all  their 
feelings,  and  was  a  decided  belle  among  them.  At  Charlottes 
ville  the  young  men  serenaded  her  by  night,  and  brought  her 
little  geraniums  in  pots.  We  visited  Monticello,  the  house 
of  Jefferson,  and  saw  the  curious  instances  of  bad  taste  in  the 
home  of  that  remarkable  man.  We  did  not  find  that  he  bore  a 
very  good  name  among  those  who  remembered  him  ;  he  was 
said  to  have  been  a  hard  master. 

In  one  of  the  schools  the  teacher  had  employed  a  young  girl 
as  assistant  teacher;  she  had  been  a  favorite  house  slave,  and 
was  just  old  enough  to  know  what  might  have  been  her  fate, 
when  emancipation  came.  She  was  just  married  to  the  young 
man  of  her  choice,  and  they  had  gone  to  house-keeping  in  their 
own  simple  way.  Everything  in  the  house  was  of  the  husband's 
making,  as  he  was  a  carpenter,  and  she  had  more  pride  and  joy 
in  a  simple  table  or  chair  that  he  had  made  for  her,  and  which 
was  all  their  own,  than  in  the  most  costly  furniture  that  she 
could  have  bought.  In  the  school  exercises  she  read  Whittier's 
beautiful  poem,  "  We  're  Free  on  Carolina's  Shore,"  with  such 
pathos  and  feeling  that  we  were  entirely  broken  down.  We  were 
frequently  prayed  for  in  the  prayer-meetings,  and  I  remember 
one  prayer  in  which,  after  giving  thanks  for  "the  sisters  who 
had  come  from  'way  over  the  seas,"  they  prayed  for  a  very  partic 
ular  blessing  upon  de  Committee,  "  and  may  dey  be  very  safely 
returned  to  their  'speckly  'bode  an'  habitation." 

There  is  a  great  difference  in  the  physical  characteristics 
among  the  negroes,  and  I  have  never  seen  finer  types  of  manly 


ANTI-SLAVERY  AND   FREEDMEN'S   WORK.  95 

beauty  than  is  common  among  them.  At  a  meeting  in  Ealeigh, 
owing  to  the  crowd,  the  young  men  stood  around  the  wall,  and  I 
was  amazed  at  their  fine,  stalwart  beauty.  Such  a  race  is  not  one 
that  can  be  permanently  kept  down.  They  had  probably  been 
in  the  army  and  gained  a  soldierly  bearing.  One  teacher 
who  had  been  a  soldier  governed  his  school  by  strict  military 
drill,  ordering 'them  to  "present  books"  -to  "salute  the 
teacher,"  etc.  It  was  very  funny,  but  not  a  bad  training  in 
manners. 

We  frequently  spoke  to  the  people  at  their  various  meetings, 
and  the  audiences  listened  with  intense  delight,  whether  they 
understood  us  or  not.  They  always  responded  to  the  broadest, 
freest  views  of  religion  that  we  could  offer,  though  we  never 
directly  antagonized  them.  At  Charlottesville  we  had  a  teacher 
who  was  very  radical,  and  not  always  discreet,  so  that  although 
personally  very  popular  with  her  scholars,  she  excited  some 
opposition  in  the  town.  When  we  went  there  a  revival  was  go 
ing  on,  and  the  ministers  objected  to  the  children's  going  to 
school  because  they  said  it  prevented  them  from  getting  reli 
gion.  They  described  the  process  of  getting  religion  as  "  She  fell 
down,  and  had  to  be  toted  home."  The  children  refused  to  sing 
the  patriotic  songs  in  school,  saying  it  was  wicked  to  sing 
anything  but  hymns.  We  called  a  meeting  of  all  the  children, 
their  parents,  etc.,  in  town,  taking  especial  care  to  invite  the 
ministers,  one  of  whom  had  most  opposed  the  work.  We  then 
addressed  them  with  no  reference  to  the  troubles.  T  took  my 
text,  "  Serve  God  with  all  your  mind  and  soul  and  heart  and 
strength,"  and  then  proceeded  to  show  them  that  to  serve  God 
with  the  mind  was  to  understand  Him,  and  to  possess  the  con 
trol  of  the  mind,  and  to  be  able  to  use  it  wisely  and  well,  and  that 
was  the  object  of  education,  and  that  was  what  they  were  there 
for.  Miss  Crocker  followed  in  a  similar  train  of  thought,  and 
when  she  sat  down,  the  minister  rose  and  commended  this 
doctrine  of  truth  they  had  heard,  and  urged  them  to  follow  it,  to 


96  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

come  to  school  diligently,  and  pursue  their  studies  in  the  right 
spirit.  I  received  on  this  occasion  the  best  compliment  I  ever  had 
in  my  life.  I  chanced  to  sit  down  by  a  young  colored  man  of  very 
humble  and  modest  appearance,  who  had  been  made  an  assistant 
teacher  in  the  school.  He  turned  to  me,  and  said:  "You've 
helped  me."  In  the  religious  instruction  of  the  negroes,  while 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  superstition  and  error  to  be  done  away 
with,  one  who  meets  them  in  the  right  spirit  will  find  an 
earnest,  simple  faith  which  responds  at  once  to  the  deepest 
and  truest  thoughts.  They  loved  forms  and  shouts  and  camp- 
meetings  ;  these  were  their  only  recreation,  all  that  saved 
them,  from  despair,  but  they  had,  too,  a  deep  sense  of  the 
constant  presence  of  God.  I  remember  a  poor  woman  telling 
me  how  her  mistress  forbade  her  going  to  prayer-meeting, 
"  But  Lord  sake !  I  was  praying  all  de  time  I  was  combing 
her  hair." 

One  winter  I  wished  to  have  a  pupil  of  Miss  Gardner's  at 
Charlottesville,  who  would  go  to  school  and  work  for  me  to  pay 
his  board.  She  selected  a  young  man  who  belonged  to  a  good 
free  family  of  colored  people.  I  went  to  the  Eliot  High  school 
in  Jamaica  Plain  to  engage  a  place  for  him.  This  school  was 
then  (about  1870)  supported  by  the  funds  left  by  the  Apostle 
Eliot,  who  directed  in  his  will  that  Indians  and  negroes  should 
never  be  excluded.  When  I  said  to  Mr.  Howe,  the  excellent 
principal,  "  I  think  you  will  find  Eobert  well  prepared  ;"  he  re 
plied,  "I  shall  take  him  whether  he  is  prepared  or  not  —  I've 
never  had  one  to  swear  by."  The  colored  population  of  Jamaica 
Plain  was  small  and  generally  poor,  and  the  children  did  not  go 
beyond  the  grammar  school.  Robert  stood  well  in  his  class  at 
the  school,  but  returned  to  Virginia  in  the  spring,  as  he  was  en 
gaged  to  play  the  violin  with  his  father  and  uncle  at  the 
Springs.  He  was  very  earnest  for  improvement,  and  was 
especially  interested  in  the  study  of  language.  He  was  de 
lighted  when  he  learned  the  composite  character  of  the  English, 


ANTI-SLAVERY   AND    FREEDMEN'S   WORK.  97 

and  I  advised  him  to  use  good  Anglo-Saxon  words.  I  bad  then 
two  very  intelligent  Irish  girls,  and  they  held  frequent  discus 
sions  over  the  propriety  of  his  and  their  peculiar  expressions. 
Almost  every  night  Eobert  came  in  with  the  request  for  "  the 
loan  of  the  dictionary,"  to  settle  their  disputes.  He  once 
brought  a  letter  from  a  friend  in  Eichmond  in  which  he  read 
"  there  have  been  many  vicissitudes  in  Richmond  since  you 
left."  "He  ought  to  have  said  'changes/"  said  Robert, 

Robert  returned  to  Charlottesville,  married  well,  and  taught 
school  successfully ;  but  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  prevailing  malady 
of  consumption. 

I  cannot  write  the  history  of  the  noble  schools  which  have 
carried  on  the  work.  I  visited  Hampton  when  it  was  in  its 
second  year,  and  held  in  the  old  Barracks,  and  again  I  saw  it  in 
the  last  year  of  General  Armstrong's  noble  career,  when  it  was 
a  grand  sight,  with  its  thousand  pupils  —  noble,  self-respecting, 
ambitious  young  men  and  women. 

I  have  visited  Atlanta  and  Tuskegee,  and  many  other  schools, 
and  I  have  never  felt  a  doubt  of  the  progress  and  final  success 
of  this  race,  whose  destiny  is  very  closely  bound  up  with  our 
own  safety  and  welfare. 

Much  has  been  said  in  these  late  times  of  the  crimes  against 
women.  Our  teachers  went  down  South,  young  women,  unpro 
tected,  living  in  lonely  places,  and  I  never  heard  of  one  word  or 
act  of  disrespect  from  the  negroes  among  whom  their  lot  was 
cast.  They  found  them  generally  grateful,  faithful,  and  friendly. 
If  they  have  become  otherwise,  it  has  been  from  receiving 
insults  and  wrongs,  to  which  they  have  unfortunately  responded 
in  kind. 

The  Freedrnen's  Society  was  finally  given  up,  and  as  the  re 
constructed  States  established  a  public-school  system,  only  a 
few  of  the  schools  still  remained.  I  count  it  the  most  in 
teresting  and  fruitful  work  of  my  life.  The  relation  with  the 
teachers  was  delightful,  and  formed  a  basis  for  enduring  friend- 

7 


98  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

ships.  The  privilege  of  such  a  journey  with  Miss  Crocker  was 
never  to  be  forgotten.  We  worked  afterward  together  in  the 
Women's  School  Suffrage  Association,  and  she  was  one  of  the  first 
supervisors  in  the  schools  of  Boston,  a  position  which  she  filled 
until  her  death,  as  no  one  else  could. 

The  teachers  in  the  Freedmen's  schools  deserve  remembrance 
as  true  martyrs  to  the  cause,  for  they  did  faithful  and  exhausting 
service  with  very  slight  rewards,  except  in  the  consciousness  of 
the  good  they  accomplished. 

After  ten  or  twelve  years  of  service  the  teachers  returned  to 
the  North  to  find  their  places  filled  by  others  and  new  methods 
and  requirements  demanded  for  which  they  were  unprepared. 

I  would  like  to  name  many  in  grateful  remembrance  but  I 
cannot  do  justice  to  all.  Most  prominent  in  my  memory  are 
Bessy  Canedy,  a  teacher  without  peer,  who  made  the  Normal 
School  at  Eichmond ;  Anna  Gardner,  who  was  an  inspiring 
influence  at  Charlottes ville ;  Caroline  Alfred,  whose  beautiful 
life  was  among  the  most  hostile  opponents  of  her  noble  cause ; 
and  Elizabeth  Hyde  Boturne,  who  was  indeed  a  Mother  in 
Israel. 

Peace  be  to  them  all ! 


TRANSCENDENTALISM   AND   THEODORE   PARKER.  99 


CHAPTER   VII. 
TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE   PARKER. 

"Nor  deem  he  lived  unto  himself  alone; 
His  was  the  public  spirit  of  his  sire  ; 
And  in  those  eyes,  soft  with  domestic  fire, 
A  quenchless  light  of  fiercer  temper  shone 
What  time  about  the  world  our  shame  was  blown 
On  every  wind  ;  his  soul  would  not  conspire 
With  selfish  men  to  soothe  the  mob's  desire, 
Veiling  with  garlands  Moloch's  bloody  stone  ; 
The  high-bred  instincts  of  a  better  day 
Ruled  in  his  blood  ;  when  to  be  a  citizen 
Rang  Roman  yet,  and  a  Free  People's  sway 
Was  not  the  exchequer  of  impoverished  men, 
Nor  statesmanship  with  loaded  votes  to  play, 
Nor  public  office  a  tramps'  boosing-ken." 

LOWELL. 

about  1840  to  1850  I  may  call  the  period  when  I 
became  interested  in  Transcendentalism,  and  especially  in 
Margaret  Fuller  and  Emerson.  I  was  a  mere  schoolgirl  when 
I  first  began  to  hear  about  this  new  faith  and  its  apostles,  and 
had  the  usual  unreasoning  prejudice  against  them.  But  it  was 
soon  dispelled.  I  think  that  my  first  knowledge  of  Emerson 
was  at  a  lecture  before  the  society  "  for  the  diffusion  of  knowl 
edge,"  which  I  attended  with  my  father  and  mother.  I  remember 
subsequently  being  pleased  when  told  by  a  friend  that  Emerson 
had  asked  who  that  young  lady  was  who  listened  to  him  so 
attentively.  I  did  listen  to  him,  and  though  I  had  then  never 
spoken  with  him,  I  used  to  feel  as  if  I  had  told  a  lie  if  I  replied 
in  the  negative  to  the  frequent  question  "Do  you  know  Mr. 
Emerson  ? "  I  always  felt  very  close  to  him ;  but  I  never  had 


100  KEMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAII   DOW   CHENEY. 

any  intimacy  with  him.  I  never  missed  an  opportunity  of 
hearing  him  or  reading  his  works.  Mr.  Malloy  has  lately 
spoken  as  if  Emerson's  poems  were  not  appreciated  at  the  time 
they  were  published.  I  can  only  say  for  myself  and  my  circle 
of  friends  that  we  read  them  with  the  greatest  delight,  often 
meeting  together  for  the  study  of  them.  At  the  same  time  I 
may  say  that  we  had  a  little  class  for  the  study  of  Plato  and  of 
Dante.  We  sometimes  varied  these  high  studies  by  reading 
dough's  "  Bothie  of  Toper  na  Fuosich "  and  Lowell's  "  Fables 
for  Critics."  Mr.  Alcott  sometimes  joined  us  in  our  readings. 

I  knew  Mr.  Alcott  and  all  his  family  much  more  familiarly 
than  the  Emersons.  His  influence  upon  me  was  very  powerful 
and  I  think  very  good,  although  I  never  accepted  all  his 
theories,  and  he  did  not  quite  accept  me  as  a  Transcendentalist. 
But  he  gave  me  an  insight  into  the  life  and  thought  of  the  old 
philosophers,  and  moreover  he  gave  that  constant  sense  of  the 
spiritual,  the  supersensual  life  that  is  the  most  precious  of  all 
possessions. 

Mr.  Alcott's  life  has  been  adequately  written  by  two  such 
friends  and  enthusiastic  disciples  as  Mr.  Frank  B.  Sanborn  and 
Mr.  Wm.  T.  Harris ;  but  I  have  many  pleasant  anecdotes,  one  of 
which  I  cannot  refrain  from  repeating,  because  it  is  so  charac 
teristic  of  his  spirit  and  because  I  have  found  it  a  help  in  many 
a  perplexity. 

A  lady  was  very  much  troubled  by  some  moral  occurrences 
which  called  for  her  correction,  saying,  "  I  wisli  I  knew  what  I 
ought  to  do  about  it."  "  Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Alcott,  "  you  ought 
to  do  nothing."  The  lady  still  persisted,  when  Mr.  Alcott  quietly 
closed  by  saying,  "  Meantime  there  is  Providence  ! " 

While  we  greatly  enjoyed  Lowell's  fun,  and  could  even  laugh 
good-naturedly  at  much  of  his  satire,  we  were  yet  very  indig 
nant  at  his  flippant  and  almost  malignant  treatment  of  Margaret 
Fuller,  which  evidently  appeared  like  personal  reprisal  on  her 
somewhat  severe  criticisms  of  his  poems.  He  afterwards  re- 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.      101 

pented  of  this  early  folly,  and  he  also  made  ample  compensation 
by  his  own  admirable  work. 

Yet  I  have  always  felt  a  contradiction  in  his  nature.  His 
generous  and  unfaltering  devotion  to  Liberty,  and  his  great 
services  to  the  Anti-Slavery  cause,  ennobled  his  whole  life. 
His  wit  and  keen  observation  of  human  nature  were  most 
worthily  employed  in  the  cause  of  the  slave,  and  he  punctured 
many  false  and  empty  sophisms  by  his  keen  satire. 

Yet  there  always  lurked  a  feeling  of  aristocratic  exclusiveness 
in  his  utterances,  and  his  poems  did  not  go  deep  to  the  heart  of 
the  people,  like  the  songs  of  Whittier.  Perhaps  a  certain  sad 
ness,  due  to  a  long  suffering  from  sickness,  and  a  constant 
struggle  with  hard  conditions,  were  revealed  in  his  poems  wrhen 
he  had  tried  to  conceal  them  in  life.  One  happiness  he  always 
had,  in  the  close,  keen  appreciation  of  nature.  He  comes  to  the 
heart  of  the  bobolink  and  the  flowers,  if  he  does  not  always 
answer  to  human  needs. 

He  was  a  grand,  rich  personality,  with  prejudices  and  limita 
tions,  but  with  deep  sincerity,  and  a  genuine  loyalty  to  the 
depths  of  his  own  nature. 

But  an  even  more  intimate  influence  came  from  Margaret 
Fuller.  I  absorbed  her  life  and  thoughts,  and  to  this  day  I 
am  astonished  to  find  how  large  a  part  of  "  what  I  am  when 
I  am  most  myself"  I  have  derived  from  her.  But  I  have 
written  so  fully  of  her  in  my  lecture  and  also  of  the  general 
influences  of  Transcendentalism  that  I  will  not  repeat  it  here.* 

I  think  it  may  have  been  in  1842  that  Theodore  Parker 
preached  the  great  ordination  sermon  which  so  startled  the 
community.  I  was  not  wholly  unprepared  to  accept  his  ideas. 
My  father  had  been  a  parishioner  of  Dr.  Holley,  who  was 
very  liberal  for  his  day.  I  remember  my  first  reading  of  the 
sermon.  I  was  then  attending  a  course  of  Lowell  lectures  by 

*  See  Appendix. 


102  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW  CHENEY. 

Professor  Silliinan,  and  as  we  had  DO  reserved  seats  I  used  to 
go  very  early,  taking  this  book  to  while  away  the  half-hour 
of  waiting.  It  took  hold  of  me  like  the  voice  of  Truth  itself, 
and  when  the  lecturer  began  to  speak  I  started  as  if  called 
back' to  earth  from  another  world.  This  sermon,  whose  doctrine 
is  now  so  generally  accepted,  made  a  great  impression  at  the 
time,  and  startled  the  old  thinkers  most  effectually ;  yet  it 
spoke  to  the  very  heart  of  unprejudiced  persons. 

It  is  impossible  to  tell  all  that  Theodore  Parker  was  to  me. 
He  threw  a  new  light  upon  the  life  and  thought  of  Jesus.  Up 
to  1845  I  had  heard  him  only  occasionally  at  lectures.  I  think 
that  I  must  tell  the  story  of  the  Thursday  lecture  as  I  knew  it. 
This  venerable  service,  which  dated  back  to  the  very  beginning 
of  the  colony,  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Unitarian  Con- 
gregationalists,  and  the  ministers  of  Boston  and  vicinity  read 
the  lecture  in  turn.  It  was  always  considered  to  be  an  occasion 
for  entire  frankness  in  speaking  the  whole  truth,  without  caring 
for  the  prejudices  and  sensibilities  of  the  congregation.  When 
Mr.  Parker's  turn  came  after  his  great  sermon,  the  house  was 
crowded,  and  he  gave  a  clear,  strong  statement  of  his  views.  I 
do  not  know  whether  it  was  on  this  first  occasion  or  the  next 
that  the  committee  in  charge  did  not  make  the  usual  provision 
for  music,  and  the  organ  was  not  played,  and  we  had  to  make 
such  harmony  as  we  could  with  improvised  singing  by  the 
congregation.  On  the  next  occasion  James  Richardson  secured 
an  organist  and  arranged  a  choir.  This  did  not  please  the 
powers  that  were,  and  to  exclude  Mr.  Parker  from  the  service, 
the  clergymen  were  invited  thereafter  by  the  pastor  of  the  First 
Church,  in  which  the  lecture  was  given.* 

My  first  personal  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Parker  was  in  a 
time  of  great  sorrow.  The  youngest  of  the  children,  Anna 


*  Mr.  Parker  afterward  said  of  the  Thursday  lecture,  "  It  was  not  killed,  it  did 
not  die  ;  but  it  kind  o'  gave  out.  " 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     103 

Walter,  had  been  my  special  charge  since  the  time  that  she 
was  wearied,  as  my  mother  was  quite  ill  at  that  time.  She  slept 
with  me  ;  I  bathed  and  dressed  her,  and  tried  my  pet  theories 
of  education  upon  her.  She  was  a  child  not  only  of  great 
beauty  of  person,  but  of  the  rarest  delicacy  and  nobleness  of 
character.  Xo  one  could  be  with  her  without  admiring  and 
loving  her.  She  was  very  bright  and  appreciated  humor  and 
fun,  and  very  affectionate  and  most  unwilling  to  hurt  anybody's 
feelings.  She  would  never  say  that  she  loved  one  of  her  sisters 
better  than  another.  But  we  were  very  closely  bound  to  each 
other  by  every  tie,  and  when  she  died  in  my  arms  after  only  one 
day  of  alarming  illness,  life  seemed  to  have  nothing  left  for  me. 
My  sweet  friend  Anne  Gore  asked  me  after  a  few  days  if 
I  would  like  to  see  Theodore  Parker.  He  came  to  me,  he 
sympathized  with  me,  and  as  I  told  him  little  traits  of  my 
darling,  I  saw  the  tears  gather  in  his  eyes.  I  told  him  of  a 
little  prayer  I  had  written  for  her  in  which  I  said :  "  May  each 
day  to  Good  be  given  "  —  and  she  changed  it  to  "  Love."  "  It 
was  better,"  he  said  in  his  deep  tones.  Then  he  recited  Mrs. 
Lowell's  poem  of  the  Alpine  Sheep.  He  left  me  changed  in 
mind.  I  felt  that  I  could  still  live  for  her,  and  with  her,  and 
that  her  loving  presence  would  go  with  me  through  life,  as  it 
has.  It  was  Mr.  Parker's  wonderful  trust  that  gave  him  such 
power  to  comfort  and  strengthen  the  hearts  of  others.  It  made 
his  funeral  services  most  helpful.  On  one  occasion,  at  the 
funeral  of  a  beautiful  young  girl,  who  was  betrothed  to  a 
German  of  extreme  radical  views,  he  spoke  as  he  usually  did 
of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul  as 
"the  great  truths  on  which  we  can  rest  in  the  darkest  times 
of  trial."  The  young  German  sceptic  was  deeply  moved,  and 
said  afterward,  "  Mr.  Parker  did  not  speak  as  if  he  thought  it, 
but  as  if  he  knew  it."  I  remember  well  another  occasion 
when  an  old  friend  of  my  mother  had  lost  a  son,  who  from 
mental  deficiency  had  seemed  of  little  value  to  anybody.  I 


104  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

wondered  what  could  be  said  of  such  a  life.  Mr.  Parker  spoke 
of  the  great  truths  which  form  the  basis  of  all  our  hope,  and 
then  said  that  "  No  man  died  to  his  harm,  that  all  the  little 
joys  of  his  life  here  had  broadened  out  into  the  life  of  eternity." 
I  shall  never  forget  the  tenderness  with  which  he  said,  "  Chief 
of  all,  he  lived  in  the  sunshine  of  his  mother's  love."  One  other 
occasion  was  equally  beautiful.  That  excellent  man,  Dr.  Flagg, 
in  his  last  illness  had  some  aberration  of  mind,  and  finally,  in 
a  moment  of  ecstasy  or  despair,  threw  himself  out  of  the  win 
dow  on  to  the  pavement.  I  had  lately  had  much  friendly  in 
tercourse  with  him  in  the  School  of  Design.  My  husband 
chanced  to  pass  just  as  his  body  was  raised  from  the  pavement, 
so  that  we  felt  deeply  depressed  by  the  sad  event,  and  I  almost 
shrank  from  attending  the  service.  Mr.  Parker  gave  an  account 
of  the  doctor's  noble  and  beneficent  life,  and  sweet  and  holy 
character,  and  closed  with,  "And  then,  as  he  grew  old,  the 
body  became  weak,  the  brain  tottered,  and  he  —  became  immor 
tal."  All  the  sadness  was  swept  away,  and  we  only  thought  of 
the  continuance  and  oneness  of  his  life. 

When  my  husband  died,  his  brothers  came  to  ask  me  whom  I 
would  like  to  have  at  the  funeral.  We  all  of  course  had  the 
same  wish  for  Mr.  Parker  if  he  could  come.  My  brother 
telegraphed,  "  Will  you  come  ? "  His  answer  was  in  one  word 
which  went  straight  to  my  heart,  with  the  whole  force  of  his 
nature  —  "  Certainly."  Most  comforting,  too,  were  his  prayers. 
He  sat  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  his  eye  passing  over  his 
great  congregation,  and  in  the  stillness  he  seemed  to  gather  up 
the  life  of  their  hearts  and  to  pour  it  out  to  God  in  the  fulness 
of  love  and  thanksgiving.  I  know  from  my  own  experience 
how  truly  he  interpreted  our  sorrows.  More  than  one  of  his 
congregation  felt  that  his  Sunday  prayer  sustained  them  through 
all  the  trials  of  the  week. 

Fortunately  there  were   those  who  were   not   content  with 
the  blessing  to  their  own  souls,  but  wished  to  preserve  these 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     105 

prayers  for  others.  Mr.  Eufus  Leighton  was  then  a  young  and 
very  skilful  stenographer,  and  his  friend  Matilda  Goddard  joined 
him  in  the  record  of  his  utterances.  They  were  successful  in 
this  labor  of  love,  giving  the  spirit  and  life  of  his  thought. 
The  little  book  has  been  a  precious  possession  to  many  who 
never  heard  his  living  voice.  The  late  Frances  Willard,  whose 
theological  surroundings  were  so  different  from  his,  told  me 
that  it  always  lay  upon  her  mother's  table,  and  that  they 
found  it  a  source  of  help  and  comfort. 

I  hardly  know  what  to  select  from  the  thoughts  and  mem 
ories  of  this  great  friend  that  throng  upon  me  now.  I  only  try 
to  give  those  personal  traits  which  are  not  known  to  those  who 
only  saw  him  as  the  great  preacher  and  reformer. 

One  very  characteristic  anecdote  must  be  preserved.  It  runs 
that  in  New  York,  some  one,  after  the  usual  American  fashion, 
asked  him  how  he  liked  their  city.  "  Oh,  very  much,"  he 
replied  ;  "  it  is  a  fine  city  !  "  "  Well,  don't  you  think  it  is  finer 
than  Boston  ? "  "  It  is  larger,  certainly."  "  But,"  persisted  the 
questioner,  "  is  n't  it  better  than  Boston  ?  "  "  It  is  a  large  city, 
a  fine  city,  indeed,  but  somehow  I  miss  my  glorious  phalanx 
of  old  maids." 

And  well  he  might;  for  he  was  surrounded  by  a  band  of 
women  who  were  glorious  helpers  in  his  work.  They  were  not 
foolish,  sentimental  maidens  who  worshipped  and  flattered  him ; 
but  they  did  him  brave  service.  I  must  name  some  of  them. 

Hannah  E.  Stevenson  became  interested  in  his  preaching  be 
fore  he  came  to  Boston,  and  used  to  walk  seven  miles,  out  to 
West  Eoxbury,  to  hear  him.  (Xo  electrics  then.)  She  was  a 
woman  of  very  fine  culture,  and  he  often  read  his  sermons  to 
her  and  consulted  her  in  literary  matters.  She  afterward,  when 
left  alone,  became  an  inmate  of  his  household,  and  assisted  him 
and  his  wife  in  the  receptions  of  the  parish  and  other  social 
duties.  She  was  warm-hearted  and  generous,  but  satirical 
and  witty,  with  strong  personal  feelings.  She  was  very 


106  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

brave  in  his  defence.  When  walking  with  him  through  Court 
Street  the  day  when  Burns  the  slave,  was  carried  away,  a 
man  threw  his  hand  up  in  his  face  and  taunted  him :  "  You 
killed  Batchelder!"  —  the  one  man  killed  in  the  mob  at  the 
Court  House.  "  I  suppose  you  know  who  did  kill  him," 
she  replied.  "  It  was  Loririg  who  killed  him."  Loring  was 
the  commissioner  who  had  sent  the  man  back  to  slavery, 
although  good  lawyers  felt  that  he  might  have  saved  him, 
even  on  legal  grounds. 

Mr.  Parker's  sermon  on  this  occasion  was  most  thrilling  and 
powerful,  yet  his  allusion  to  Loring  was  very  tender  and  con 
siderate.  He  spoke  of  his  appointment  as  Judge  of  Probate, 
arid  said :  "  We  thought  of  him  as  one  with  whom  the  widow 
and  the  orphan  would  be  safe." 

It  was  said  that  on  the  following  Saturday  Mr.  Loriug  went 
down  to  Faneuil  Hall  market  to  buy  his  Sunday  dinner,  and 
having  selected  a  fine  little  pig  for  roasting  (then  a  favorite 
meal  with  Bostonians),  asked  the  price.  "  I  could  not  sell  to 
you,  sir,  for  any  price  ;  I  should  taste  blood  in  the  money,"  was 
the  indignant  reply.  It  was  said  that  this  rebuff  hurt  Mr. 
Loring  very  deeply,  and  indeed,  his  death,  which  occurred 
shortly  afterward,  was  attributed  to  his  agony  of  feeling  at  the 
loss  of  respect  among  his  fellow-citizens. 

When  the  Twenty-Eighth  Congregational  Society  was  formed 
"  to  give  Theodore  Parker  a  chance  to  be  heard  in  Boston,"  my 
sister,  Mary  Frances,  and  I  were  among  his  first  parishioners, 
and  soon  after  mother  joined  us  and  became  his  warm  friend 
and  admirer.  We  gave  out  of  our  small  allowance  of  pocket- 
money  five  dollars  a  year,  which  now  seems  exceedingly  small 
for  such  a  glorious  privilege ;  but  we  were  faithful  attendants, 
and  good  hearers  of  the  Word,  if  not  mighty  doers.  On  the 
day  of  the  installation  we  sent  a  bouquet  of  flowers  for  the 
desk.  This  was  not  at  all  customary  then ;  but  Mr.  Parker 
seemed  so  pleased,  lightly  and  reverently  passing  his  hand  over 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     107 

them  as  he  drew  some  beautiful  lesson,  that  we  never  felt  a  ser 
vice  complete  without  them.  We  formed  a  committee,  who 
paid  a  small  sum  every  little  while  to  Miss  Caroline  Thayer, 
who  bought  and  arranged  the  flowers  in  winter.  But  when 
summer  came,  we  often  devoted  our  Saturdays  to  searching  for 
wild  flowers,  and  brought  them  to  decorate  the  desk.  Thus 
many  of  the  audience,  confined  to  the  city,  saw  the  columbine 
or  the  laurel  or  pond-lily  for  the  first  time.  Mr.  Parker  always 
took  the  flowers  to  some  sick  person,  oftenest  to  the  wife  of  our 
blessed  "  St.  John,"  who  was  entirely  crippled  with  the  worst 
rheumatism.  The  faithful  husband  gave  up  business  to  retire  on 
a  moderate  income,  and  devote  himself  to  his  family  ;  but  he  yet 
found  time  to  do  many  a  kind  deed,  and  utter  many  a  brave 
word.  His  true  name  was  Mauley.  Occasionally  on  a  calm 
summer  Sunday,  Mr.  Parker  and  he  might  be  seen  wheeling  his 
wife  in  her  garden  chair  from  her  house  to  Mr.  Parker's  home 
in  quiet  Exeter  Street. 

The  Misses  Thayer,  a  family  of  sisters,  aided  Mr.  Parker  in 
all  his  benevolent  work ;  but  Miss  Caroline  was  of  especial 
value  by  her  literary  help.  She  was  a  very  careful  student  of 
history,  and  when  he  was  investigating  any  subject  she  would 
read  any  books  he  desired,  and  mark  everything  important  for 
his  work,  thus  saving  him  many  hours  of  precious  time.  Every 
body,  in  fact,  liked  to  do  such  service  for  him.  The  policemen 
helped  him  most  readily  when  he  was  preparing  his  sermon  on 
"  the  perishing  classes."  Miss  Thayer  had  a  fine  library  of  her 
own,  and  she  gave  it  to  the  Boston  Public  Library,  where  it  is 
placed  (I  think)  in  the  room  with  Mr.  Parker's  books. 

But  most  precious  of  all  was  our  "  St.  Matilda  "  (Goddard)  who, 
like  her  Italian  precursor,  gave  her  all  to  the  church,  —  not,  in 
deed,  in  money,  but  in  service  to  its  human  members  wherever 
they  were  found.  She  fulfilled  the  command  to  "serve  God 
with  your  mind  and  heart  and  strength  ; "  for,  as  we  have  seen, 
she  was  as  desirous  and  as  able  to  help  men  and  women  in  their 


108  KEMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

intellectual  and  spiritual  needs  as  she  was  to  relieve  human 
suffering. 

I  can  hardly  believe  that  at  this  time  she  was  only  about 
thirty  years  old,  for  she  seemed  to  me  then  the  same  saintly, 
quaint,  utterly  unselfish  little  woman  that  she  does  now.  She 
and  her  sister  with  their  mother  were  then  living  in  very  simple 
fashion  in  Florence  Street  at  the  South  End.  She  long  had 
the  one  old-fashioned  domestic,  who  always  sat  at  meat  with 
them,  and  who  was  treated  more  as  a  kind  and  helpful  friend 
than  as  an  inferior  and  dependant.  The  mother  was  a  person 
of  fine  artistic  taste,  who  did  beautiful  embroidery  directly  from 
nature,  and  Matilda  had  great  feeling  for  beauty,  although  her 
life  was  devoted  to  practical  interests. 

I  do  not  know  what  special  circumstance  called  her  attention 
to  destitute  infants ;  but  when  I  first  knew  her  she  was  already 
engaged  in  the  work.  She  could  not  take  them  to  her  home, 
but  when  she  found  an  infant  deserted  by  its  parents,  or  having 
none  able  to  care  for  it,  she  found  a  boarding-place  and  carefully 
watched  over  it  until  it  was  either  adopted  or  well  provided  for. 
She  never  gave  up  her  watchful  care  until  the  child  was  of  age, 
or  had  finished  its  earthly  life.  She  was  the  most  practical  of 
housekeepers,  and  the  most  perfect  of  economists.  She  saved, 
not  for  herself,  but  for  her  work,  and  waste  was  utterly  unlovely 
to  her.  "  Oh !  if  people  would  only  give  me  their  rag-bags," 
she  would  sometimes  say.  "  I  don't  want  them  to  give  me 
what  they  want,  only  what  they  don't  want.  I  can  make  it  all 
useful."  And  the  remnant  of  cotton  or  flannel  went  to  line  the 
jacket  of  some  little  urchin  she  was  fitting  out  for  a  Western 
home. 

All  was  done,  not  in  a  cold  spirit  of  duty,  but  with  loving 
kindness,  so  that  my  husband  said,  on  first  seeing  her,  "  She  is 
the  only  woman  I  ever  saw  that  was  not  a  mother,  who  had  the 
mother  in  her  face."  She  had  a  brother  whom  I  did  not  know 
personally,  but  whom  I  have  always  honored.  He  had  become 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     109 

a  rich  man,  and  undoubtedly  helped  his  sister  greatly  in  the 
necessary  expenses  of  her  loving  work.  When  he  died,  com 
paratively  young,  he  left  to  his  sisters  the  sum  of  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  (then  considered  a  fortune),  entirely  with 
out  restriction.  His  wife,  a  woman  fully  worthy  of  his  love 
and  name,  concurred  in  this,  and  her  own  life  was  spent  in  the 
same  blessed  charities. 

Miss  Goddard  made  no  change  in  her  simple  style  of  living, 
except  that  she  went  on  her  errands  of  mercy  with  a  carryall 
and  horse  and  driver,  enabling  her  with  her  feeble  health  to 
do  an  amount  of  work  which  she  could  not  have  done  unaided. 
When  she  was  not  using  the  carriage  it  was  well  employed  in 
taking  poor  invalids  to  ride.  Her  recreation  was  found  in 
attending  the  best  concerts  and  the  theatre,  of  which  she  was 
very  fond.  She  spent  all  her  summers  in  town,  and  seldom,  if 
ever,  travelled ;  but  she  had  a  wide  acquaintance  with  various 
people,  and  her  conversation  was  delightful.  She  removed  to 
Newbury  Street  when  the  South  End  house  became  noisy  and 
unpleasant  from  the  growth  of  the  city.  On  Mondays  she 
kept  open  house,  and  many  a  lonely  toiler  found  the  great  social 
pleasure  of  life  in  sitting  down  to  her  simple  but  genial  table. 
But  while  so  perfectly  adjusted  to  the  needs  of  life,  each  day 
was  full  of  spiritual  meaning  and  joy  to  her.  She  had  no 
shrinking  from  death,  but  felt  that  she  should  go  on  to  more 
and  more  life,  and  that  all  that  had  blessed  her  here  would  be 
hers  in  fuller  measure  hereafter.  Xow  (1898),  in,  I  think, 
her  eighty-sixth  year,  she  is  still  a  benediction  to  all  who 
approach  her,  and  I  thank  God  for  the  light  she  has  been  in 
my  life.* 

The  Twenty-Eighth  Society  held  their  services  in  the  old  Melo- 
deon,  a  dingy  hall  on  Washington  Street,  which  had  once  been  a 
theatre,  and  which  now  was  used  on  week-days  for  a  variety  of 

*  She  died  in  1901. 


110  KEMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

unclerical  purposes.  Mr.  Parker  gradually  became  more  and  more 
known,  and  the  hall  was  filled  entirely  every  Sunday.  In 
order  to  secure  seats,  many  people,  especially  young  men,  came 
half  an  hour  earlier  than  the  opening  of  the  service,  and  would 
read  newspapers  and  pamphlets  to  beguile  the  time.  Some  of 
the  older  parishioners  were  a  little  scandalized  by  this  freedom, 
and  asked  Mr.  Parker  to  request  a  discontinuance  of  it.  He 
answered  :  "  I  confess  that  it  grates  upon  me ;  for  it  is  not  like 
the  decorum  of  the  old  churches ;  but  when  I  remember  how 
precious  a  half-hour  of  reading  was  to  me  when  I  was  young,  I 
cannot  bear  to  ask  any  one  to  forego  such  a  privilege  because  it 
jars  upon  my  feelings."  Mr.  Parker  so  frequently  preached  upon 
the  topics  of  the  day  that  he  often  made  remarks  which  would 
naturally  elicit  applause  which  was  not  then  allowable  in  the 
churches;  but  the  audience  restrained  themselves  until  one 
occasion,  when,  in  the  intensity  of  feeling,  they  broke  through 
all  sense  of  decorum. 

When  the  first  fugitive  slave,  Shadrach,  was  arrested  in  Bos 
ton,  at  the  opening  of  the  prayer  Mr.  Parker  said,  "  When  I  came 
to  you  I  expected  to  have  many  hard  things  to  do  ;  but  I  never 
expected  to  have  such  a  note  as  this  to  read  from  one  of  my 
parishioners."  He  then  read  the  note.  "  Shadrach,  a  fugitive 
slave,  in  peril  of  his  liberty,  asks  your  prayers  that  he  may  not 
again  be  returned  to  bondage."  "  But,"  said  Mr.  Parker,  "  thank 
God  he  does  not  need  our  prayers ;  for  he  is  now  safe,  far  on  his 
way  to  freedom."  (He  had  been  rescued  from  the  Court  House 
by  a  company  of  friends.)  For  a  moment  the  hush  of  that  great 
audience  was  as  if  life  had  stopped.  Then  came  a  burst  of 
applause,  the  relief  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  describe.  It 
was  like  opening  the  doors  of  a  dungeon. 

Many  thrilling  scenes  accompanied  his  preaching,  and  laughter 
and  tears  were  often  very  near  together.  When  preaching  on 
the  subject  of  sin,  as  he  spoke  of  the  infinite  power  of  redemp 
tion  in  the  human  soul,  and  said,  "  We  can  overcome  sin,"  a 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     11] 

voice  from  the  gallery  called  out  in  deep  tones,  "  I  know  it,  I 
feel  it,  I  am  sure  it  is  true  !" 

At  one  time,  preaching  on  the  message  of  nature,  Mr.  Parker 
spoke  of  the  beauties  of  the  earth,  the  grass,  the  trees,  etc.,  and 
of  the  common  notion  that  toads  could  foretell  the  weather. 
An  old  lady,  who  walked  out  after  the  sermon  with  her  head 
very  high  in  the  air,  exclaimed  :  "  Well !  I  never  heard  before 
that  toads  were  prophets,  and  that  grass  was  revelations ! " 

Mr.  Parker  kept  a  careful  and  kindly  watch  over  the  maidens 
of  his  flock.  One  of  them  was  very  much  annoyed  by  the 
intrusive  attentions  of  a  poor  man  who  wished  to  marry  an 
heiress,  and  who  afterward  proved  to  be  insane.  When  Mr. 
Parker  saw  him  approach  her  after  the  service,  with  the  inten 
tion  of  walking  home  with  her,  he  would  slip  down  the  platform 
steps,  take  him  by  the  buttonhole,  and  detain  him  in  conversa 
tion  until  she  could  escape. 

This  poor  man  was  the  victim  of  all  the  mischievous  wags  of 
the  time,  who  played  upon  his  self-conceit  and  vanity  by 
assuring  him  that  this  lady  and  others  were  in  love  with  him, 
and  only  refused  to  accept  his  addresses  because  of  the  opposi 
tion  of  their  rich  families.  They  would  also  arrange  for  him  to 
give  a  lecture,  and  would  fill  the  hall  with  young  scamps,  who 
would  not  suffer  him  to  go  through  with  a  sentence,  but  con 
stantly  interrupted  him  with  tumultuous  shouts  of  applause. 
It  was  carried  so  far  that  the  poor  man  actually  believed  himself 
a  candidate  for  the  Presidency,  and  I  have  seen  him  appear  at 
a  public  meeting  decorated  with  stars  and  ribbons,  which  he 
supposed  to  have  been  sent  him  by  mighty  personages.* 

*  When  Kossuth  was  in  Boston,  many  of  the  abolitionists  condemned  him 
very  seriously  for  his  silence  in  regard  to  slavery.  Mr.  Mellen  wrote  him  a  long 
letter  expressing  his  high  disapproval.  Kossuth  then  probably  thought  the 
high-sounding  name,  George  Washington  Mellen,  represented  the  first  citizens 
of  Boston,  and  he  read  the  letter  at  his  lecture  in  Faneuil  Hall.  When  the  sig 
nature  was  read  the  shout  of  laughter  and  derision  which  went  up  from  the 
amused  audience  staggered  the  eloquent  orator,  who  could  not  understand  the 
ridicule  attached  to  the  serious  attack  of  the  writer. 


112  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

But  the  most  annoying,  and  at  the  same  time,  amusing  of 
persons  was  Abby  Folsom,  whom  Lydia  Maria  Child  (I  believe) 
was  the  first  to  call  "  the  flea  of  conventions."  Certainly  no  flea 
was  ever  more  alert  or  tormenting,  or  more  indestructible.  Her 
history  should  be  preserved ;  for  she  was  a  characteristic,  abnor 
mal  expression  of  the  time.  Abby  Harford  was  a  young  woman 
of  Rochester,  New  Hampshire.  She  was  very  bright  and  smart, 
with  a  warm  heart  and  full  of  zeal  for  good  works  and  great 
reforms,  but  had  an  uncontrollable  temper,  excitable  brain,  and 
an  irrepressible  flow  of  speech.  When  Mr.  Folsom  took  it  into 
his  head  to  marry  her,  he  went  to  his  employer  and  told  him 
he  was  to  be  married,  expecting  his  congratulations.  "  Whom 
are  you  going  to  marry  ? "  "  Nabby  Harford."  "  Then  you  had 
better  go  down  to  the  bridge  and  jump  into  the  river  at  once," 
was  the  answer.  Nabby,  however,  was  a  very  good  wife  when 
she  was  at  home,  kept  the  house  and  her  husband's  clothes  well 
in  order,  and  does  not  seem  to  have  alienated  his  affections,  for 
he  would  say,  after  she  had  been  long  absent,  "  Now,  Nabby, 
why  can't  you  stay  at  home  ?  —  we  would  be  so  comfortable." 
But  a  country  home  without  children  was  quite  too  narrow  a 
sphere  for  Abby's  large  soul.  She  came  to  Boston  and  was 
deeply  interested  in  the  anti-slavery  work,  but  not  alone  in 
that ;  she  went  among  the  poor,  doing  constant  deeds  of  kind 
ness,  rescuing  the  drunken  woman  from  the  very  gutter,  and 
taking  her  into  her  own  poor  rooms.  Mr.  Parker,  Mr.  Phillips, 
Charles  F.  Hovey,  and  other  noted  abolitionists  recognized  her 
noble  qualities,  although  they  suffered  grievously  from  her 
tongue.  They  occasionally  gave  her  money  and  sympathy  and 
assistance  when  her  furniture  was  put  out  upon  the  sidewalk 
for  non-payment  of  rent,  or  for  making  a  disturbance  in  the 
house.  But  she  did  not  spare  them  for  that. 

When  Mr.  Parker  first  began  to  preach  at  the  Melodeon,  she 
became  a  regular  attendant.  She  would  rise  in  the  middle  of 
a  sermon  and  ask  him  some  question  not  very  pertinent  to  the 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     113 

subject.  She  would  usually  come  gliding  in,  in  some  mysterious 
manner,  so  that  you  never  knew  where  she  came  from  until  she 
appeared  at  her  chosen  spot.  She  seated  herself  in  full  view 
both  of  the  minister  and  the  congregation.  Poor  Mr.  Parker 
would  be  fastened  by  her  eyes,  as  by  a  basilisk,  and  when  the 
sharp,  shrill  voice  was  uplifted,  lie  lost,  for  an  instant,  his 
presence  of  mind,  and  uttered  a  quick,  sharp  "  No  ; "  then  he  said, 
very  gently,  "  Come  to  me  in  private  —  and  I  will  answer  you.'' 
But  this  was  not  what  she  wanted.  After  a  while  he  prevailed 
with  her  so  far  that  she  promised  not  to  interrupt  until  the 
service  was  finished  ;  when  she  would  rise  up  and  begin  an  ex 
hortation  to  the  congregation.  Mr.  Parker  would  give  a  signal 
to  the  organist  to  play  the  people  out ;  who  would  then  sound 
the  whole  strength  of  the  sub-bass  of  the  organ  in  its  loudest 
tones,  and  even  Abby's  lungs  could  not  prevail  against  it. 

Mr.  Parker  wished  to  have  meetings  on  Sunday  afternoon  for 
free  conversation  ;  but  with  Abby  in  the  field  they  proved  im 
possible.  She  was  there  on  the  first  day,  and  began  her  ex 
hortation.  Mr.  Parker  addressed  her  with  the  utmost  sweetness 
and  patience,  saying  that  he  recognized  her  as  a  good  woman, 
a  Christian  woman,  who  desired  to  do  good  to  her  fellow 
creatures,  and  begged  her  to  remain  quiet,  and  not  to  obstruct 
the  meetings,  from  which  they  hoped  so  much.  She  had  great 
respect  and  gratitude  for  Mr.  Parker,  and  she  seemed  at  first 
softened  by  his  appeal ;  but  as  she  began  to  speak  in  answer, 
the  blood  mounted  to  her  brain,  her  voice  rose  higher  and 
shriller  into  almost  a  wild  scream,  and  great  confusion  arose 
from  the  efforts  to  check  her.  The  chairman  had  difficulty 
to  decide  among  many  who  were  wishing  to  speak,  when 
Abby's  shrill  voice  arose  above  everybody's,  exclaiming:  "Let 
Brother  Hovey  speak;  he  always  speaks  to  the  p'int."  The 
"  p'int"  of  his  speeches,  to  her,  was  generally  a  twenty-dollar 
bill.  The  managers  of  the  meeting  the  next  Sunday  stationed 
good  Dr.  Flint,  a  strong,  fine-looking  man,  at  the  door,  to  prevent 


114  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

her  coming  in.  But  he  could  n't  help  greeting  his  acquaint 
ances  as  they  passed  in,  and  lost  sight  of  her  for  a  moment,  and 
she  slipped  in.  He  then  went  to  her  and  said :  "  Now,  Abby, 
you  may  stay  if  you  will  be  quiet  and  not  speak."  When  the 
meeting  was  opened  Abby's  voice  immediately  arose,  and  she  said, 
"  When  I  came  in  here  this  afternoon,  a  thing  in  the  shape  of  a 
man  came  to  me,  and  told  me  I  might  stay  if  I  would  be  quiet;" 
from  this  text  followed  a  tirade  of  words,  and  if  I  remember 
rightly,  the  meeting  finally  broke  up  in  confusion.  After  the 
regular  meeting  closed,  John  M.  Spear  went  to  her  arid  said, 
"  Well,  Sister  Abby,  you  come  to  my  meeting  this  evening,  and 
I  will  let  you  speak."  Abby  again  lifted  up  her  voice,  with  a 
sneering  laugh,  "  Brother  Spear  says  he  will  let  me  speak  "  —  as 
if  anything  in  heaven  or  on  earth  could  prevent  her  if  she  chose 
to  talk !  The  same  difficulty  occurred  at  the  anti-slavery  meet 
ings,  and  even  the  non-resistant  principles  of  the  managers  had 
to  give  way,  and  they  were  at  last  obliged  to  carry  her  out  by 
force.  One  day  Wendell  Phillips  and  Francis  Jackson  carried 
her  out,  as  children  carry  each  other  in  an  arm-chair.  She  sat 
as  in  triumph,  and  exclaimed :  "  I  am  more  honored  than  my 
Saviour,  for  he  was  carried  into  Jerusalem  by  one  ass,  while  I 
am  borne  out  by  two." 

She  formed  a  close  league  with  another  original,  Silas  Lamson, 
who  was  a  little  more  crazy  than  she,  and  had  the  same  mania 
for  disturbing  meetings.  Silas  belonged  to  a  good  family  in 
Maine,  and  was  originally  a  maker  of  scythe-snaths.  He  had 
become  filled  with  some  peculiar  religious  notions,  the  outward 
sign  of  which  was  that  saints  should  dress  in  white  raiment  and 
wear  long  beards  (which  was  not  then  the  fashion  for  sinners). 
He  could  be  seen  frequently  about  the  streets  of  Boston, 
in  this  costume,  and  leaning  upon  his  long,  crooked  scythe- 
snath  made  a  very  picturesque  figure.  His  family  were  quite 
willing  to  take  care  of  him,  and  much  mortified  at  the  course 
he  took ;  they  paid  him  a  regular  stipend  monthly,  but  did  not 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     115 

dare  give  it  directly,  lest  it  should  be  foolishly  spent ;  so  it 
passed  through  the  hands  of  a  young  lawyer.  He  had  set  up 
house-keeping  with  Abby  and  they  came  together  to  the  young 
lawyer's  office  monthly,  to  receive  the  payment.  He  was  a 
great  wag,  and  had  an  abundance  of  fun  from  the  interviews. 
Silas  would  often  quarrel  with  Abby  because  she  spent  too 
much  money  on  the  house-keeping ;  he  thought  it  ought  all 
to  be  reserved  for  the  saints  in  white  raiment.  He  would 
go  down  on  Long  Wharf,  on  the  coldest  Sundays,  and  preach 
to  the  people,  who  were  amused  at  his  strange  doctrine  and 
expressions. 

This  was  the  time  of  Mr.  Parker's  richest  activity,  and  most 
burning  eloquence ;  his  soul  was  on  fire  with  anti-slavery  zeal 
and  intense  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  the  country  he  loved  so 
much.  He  preached  many  sermons  on  the  stirring  questions  of 
the  time,  and  it  was  then  that  the  most  bitter  opposition  was 
aroused  against  him  both  by  theological  opponents,  supporters 
of  compromising  politics,  and  even  among  his  former  brethren 
of  the  ministry.  Prayers  were  offered  for  his  overthrow,  in  Park 
Street  Church,  and  it  is  a  valuable  sign  of  the  ease  with  which 
false  tales  are  propagated,  that  it  was  currently  told  that,  "  after 
a  prayer  had  been  offered  that  the  Lord  would  put  a  hook  in 
his  mouth,  he  was  struck  dumb  while  preaching  his  usual 
blasphemies  in  the  pulpit,  and  had  never  opened  his  mouth 
since."  If  such  stories  could  be  circulated  and  believed  in  his 
own  time  and  city,  what  credit  can  we  give  to  traditions  of 
miraculous  prodigies  occurring  in  remote  times  and  distant 
places  ?  His  preaching  continued  until  the  stormy  times  be 
fore  the  war;  but  sickness  had  driven  him  away  from  home 
before  that  eventful  period.  He  lived  to  shelter  William  Crafts 
in  his  own  house,  and  witnessed  the  carrying  away  of  Burns, 
a  fugitive  from  Boston.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  these  events, 
because  his  biographers  have  given  full  account  of  them. 
I  only  wish,  in  addition,  to  give  my  testimony  that  in  the 


116  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

midst  of  all  this  violent  agitation  he  was  the  most  tender 
and  devoted  of  pastors  to  his  own  flock,  whom  he  loved  as 
they  loved  him  and  each  other.  As  he  sat  at  his  desk  before 
the  prayer,  he  looked  around  upon  them  and  gathered  up  the 
thoughts  of  their  hearts,  and  many  a  heart  recognized  that  its 
secret  griefs  were  known,  its  deepest  struggles  interpreted,  as 
he  lifted  up  his  own  heart  in  penitence  or  prayer  or  thanks 
giving  to  his  God. 

He  received  letters  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  from  people 
of  every  age  and  sect,  asking  for  advice  and  help,  or  sometimes 
remonstrating  with  him  on  his  course ;  they  were  all  carefully 
and  cordially  answered,  and  often  formed  the  basis  of  a  life-long 
relation  of  great  value.  One  of  the  most  touching  of  these  was 
from  a  good  Quaker  in  a  Western  State.  He  began  his  letter: 
"  Friend  Parker,  —  I  have  read  thy  books,"  and  he  proceeded  to 
tell  how  much  help  and  comfort  they  had  given  him.  The  page 
was  left  unfinished.  The  next  page,  with  a  somewhat  later  date, 
opened:  "Dear  Theodore,  —  we  have  just  returned  from  the 
funeral  of  our  child,  and  our  hearts  turn  to  thee  first  for 
sympathy  and  help."  The  letter  touched  Mr.  Parker  deeply,  and 
his  whole  heart  went  out  in  his  answer  to  it.  Years  afterward 
in  one  of  my  Western  journeys,  I  found  the  family  of  the  Quaker, 
who  cherished  the  name  of  Theodore  Parker  as  a  household 
angel ;  and  some  of  them  went  with  me  afterward  on  a  pilgri 
mage  to  his  West  Koxbury  church,  which  was  then  partially 
destroyed  by  fire. 

After  a  meeting  in  the  West  at  which  I  had  spoken  of  him,  a 
young  girl  came  up  to  me  and  asked  to  shake  hands,  saying : 
"  Oh !  if  you  knew  how  I  have  longed  to  see  the  face  of  one 
who  had  seen  Theodore  Parker." 

This  is  the  Theodore  Parker  who  is  doing  his  work,  while  his 
body  lies  buried  in  Florence. 

After  Mr.  Parker's  absence  from  home  and  after  his  death,  the 
Music  Hall  was  for  a  time  filled  with  the  old  spirit,  and  the 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  AND  THEODORE  PARKER.     117 

work  went  on  at  the  period  when  we  felt  that  we  needed  him 
so  much,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War.  I  must  note  some 
of  the  well-remembered  occasions. 

Wendell  Phillips  often  spoke  with  his  wonted  eloquence  and 
power.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  had  been  severely  attacked 
by  the  newspapers,  he  read  for  the  Scripture  lessons  the  most 
severe  passages  of  Jesus'  "  Woe  to  the  Pharisees  "  in  his  heart- 
thrilling  voice,  and  then  closing  the  book  he  added,  "  If  the 
'  Daily  Advertiser '  calls  this  blasphemous  railing  and  vile  abuse, 
I  am  not  responsible." 

One  time  it  was  rumored  that  the  Mayor  refused  to  protect  the 
meeting  when  there  was  undoubtedly  preparation  for  a  riot. 
Individuals  were  armed  with  pistols  to  shoot  Mr.  Phillips  down, 
but  there  were  a  hundred  policemen  in  the  hall,  while  the 
audience  was  packed  closely  about  the  speaker.  A  chosen  band 
protected  Mr.  Phillips  to  his  home.  I  never  before  realized  the 
spirit  of  excitement  and  intense  life  in  such  an  audience.  I 
have  always  thought  that  the  greatest  safeguard  on  this  occasion 
was  the  holding  of  the  regular  service  in  the  morning.  New 
England  propriety  overcame  the  passion  of  the  mob. 

Theodore  Weld,  in  his  youth,  was  thought  by  many  to  have 
equalled  Wendell  Phillips  in  his  earnest  eloquence  as  an  anti- 
slavery  lecturer.  But  he  almost  utterly  lost  his  voice,  from  a 
severe  exposure  to  cold,  and  fatigue  in  his  work.  His  imposed 
silence  was  a  severe  trial,  but  at  this  juncture  speech  became 
an  imperative  necessity  to  him  and  he  ventured  the  experi 
ment.  He  came  to  the  Music  Hall,  and  spoke  of  the  pres 
ervation  of  the  Union.  It  was  a  trumpet  sound,  gathering 
up  his  long  repressed  force,  great  in  logic,  strong  in  reasoning, 
and  passionate  in  eloquence.  Charles  K.  Whipple,  no  mean 
critic,  said  that  his  argument  for  the  Union  of  the  Government 
was  equal  to  that  of  Daniel  Webster.  He  spoke  once  again  in 
a  different  strain,  with  the  force  and  beauty  of  a  patriotic  poet, 
which  Edwin  P.  Whipple  compared  to  the  eloquence  of  Choate. 


118  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

I  think  this  was  his  last  public  effort.  He  had  spoken  his  word, 
and  he  was  again  forced  to  silence. 

Samuel  J.  May's  plea  for  peace  was  most  touching,  for  he 
stood  as  truly  an  opponent  of  slavery  as  any  man  living,  and 
firmly  as  ever  he  maintained  his  old  faith  in  non-resistance. 

And  Samuel  Johnson  was  not  less  true  and  noble.  He  had 
just  returned  from  England,  and  there  he  saw  and  honored  the 
unselfish  and  heroic  action  of  the  working-classes,  who  were 
starving  from  want  of  cotton,  and  yet  who  stood  bravely  by  the 
cause  of  the  North.  He  dared  to  tell  the  people,  when  believing 
that  all  England  were  against  us,  that  he  came  to  bear  to  us  this 
noble  testimony  to  the  warm  heart  of  the  mother  nation.  His 
old  friend,  Miss  Lucy  Osgood,  went  up  to  him  and  grasped  his 
hand,  saying,  "  God  has  given  to  you  the  great  gift  to  increase, 
and  not  to  decrease." 

When  Charles  Summer  had  received  from  the  legislature  of 
Massachusetts  severe  censure  for  the  pacific  removal  of  the 
records  of  Union  victories  from  the  national  flag,  the  legislature 
revoked  the  censure,  and  his  old  colored  friend,  J.  B.  Smith,  the 
well-known  caterer,  was  sent  to  Washington  to  give  the  word  to 
the  dying  patient.  I  can  never  forget  the  tone  at  the  Sunday 
service  in  which  Mr.  Johnson  said,  "Massachusetts  to-day  re 
joices  in  unspeakable  thankfulness  that  her  voice  reached  his 
dying  ear  before  it  was  too  late." 

Ah !  they  were  true  men  and  brave,  who  have  baptized  our 
country  forever. 


CONCORD   SCHOOL   OF  PHILOSOPHY.  119 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 
CONCORD  SCHOOL  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

"  Naught  better  man  can  do,  each  day  in  all  the  seven, 
Than  leave  the  world  and  self  behind,  and  pray  to  Heaven. 
Prayer  is  not  form  and  show,  Prayer  is  no  empty  word  ; 
Prayer  is  a  thought,  and  thought  alone  in  Heaven  is  heard  ; 
Yet  Prayer  must  grow  to  work,  that  the  whole  life  may  rise, 
Pure  as  a  morning  breath  of  incense,  to  the  skies." 

FRIEDRICH  RUCKERT. 

TX  1877,  Margaret  and  I  went  with  my  sisters  and  some  other 
young  friends  to  Europe,  but  I  have  little  to  record  of  the 
journey,  save  the  deep  sorrow  that  came  to  us  in  Eome,  from 
the  death  of  my  dear  sister  Helen,  who  died  of  Roman  fever. 

While  we  suffered  from  the  usual  unfeelingness  of  the  hotel 
keepers,  who  are  in  mortal  fear  of  a  case  of  sickness  in  their 
houses,  I  must  yet  bear  testimony  to  the  extreme  and  constant 
courtesy  of  all  the  officials,  whom  we  had  to  meet  in  the  neces 
sary  arrangement  consequent  on  a  death,  and  must  especially 
mention  the  guardian  of  the  Protestant  cemetery,  who  made 
everything  as  little  trying  to  our  feelings  as  possible. 

It  was  at  an  interesting  period  of  time,  for  we  arrived  in 
Rome  just  after  the  deatli  of  the  King,  and  I  saw  him  laid  in 
state;  and  soon  after  Pius  IX.  died.  I  visited  his  bier  also 
and  was  struck  with  the  changing  fates  of  men.  I  had  heard 
Theodore  Parker  give  thanks  in  his  own  pulpit  for  the  election 
of  this  pope,  when  he  believed  him  to  be  a  true  lover  of  freedom, 
who  promised  great  good  to  Italy.  He  lived  to  be  execrated  by 
his  countrymen,  as  false  to  his  promises,  and  an  enemy  to  his 


120  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

country's  freedom.     His  kingdom  of  Italy  was  shrunken  to  a 
voluntary  prison. 

He  was  interred  with  all  due  honor  at  St.  Peter's,  but  so 
great  was  the  fear  of  tumult  among  the  people  that  the  Catholic 
managers  requested  the  government  to  defend  the  church.  The 
government  refused  to  send  soldiers  without  a  written  order 
from  the  authorities  of  the  Pope's  command,  which  was  accord 
ingly  sent.  The  soldiers  entered  the  church  with  their  hats  on, 
and  refused  to  .take  them  off  at  the  bidding  of  the  priests. 
Their  prescribed  uniform  was  not  to  be  changed  at  ecclesiastical 
order. 

The  journey  is  memorable  as  the  occasion  of  meeting  one  who 
has  ever  since  been  a  very  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Eebecca  Moore  of 
London, — a  woman  of  fine  culture,  the  most  earnest  reform 
views,  and  the  sweetest  temper  and  disposition.  She  is  happily 
living  now,  young  in  her  old  age,  and  full  of  interest  in  litera 
ture,  art,  and  reform. 

Through  her  I  met  some  of  the  early  English  abolitionists. 
They  were  men  and  women  of  the  finest  stamp,  and  their 
mantle  has  descended  on  the  present  advocates  of  such  reforms, 
as  the  crusade  against  the  contagious  disease  acts.  Mrs.  Jose 
phine  Butler  I  remember  with  special  interest. 

Through  the  kindness  of  a  friend  I  met  some  of  the  liberal 
leaders  in  London.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  dining  with  Peter 
Taylor,  and  there  met  the  noble  blind  hero,  Professor  Fawcett, 
with  his  devoted  and  able  wife.  Having  lost  his  eyes  from  an 
accident  by  his  father's  hands,  he  nobly  accepted  his  life  to 
prove  that  his  career  was  not  ruined,  and  having  made  the 
utmost  of  his  education  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  he  became  at 
last  the  chief  postmaster  of  England.  He  died  in  middle  age, 
and  his  wife  has  since  honored  his  life  by  her  useful  writings  on 
political  economy. 

Mr.  Garrison  and  his  son  were  in  London  at  the  time,  and  it 
was  very  interesting  to  see  the  spirit  of  the  old  abolitionist. 


CONCORD  SCHOOL  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  121 

Mr.  Taylor  kindly  took  us  to  see  the  House  of  Commons; 
where  of  course  I  could  only  sit  in  the  caged  gallery  and  look 
down  upon  the  distinguished  assembly. 

It  was  the  morning  session  and  a  dull  debate.  If  I  remember 
it  was  on  temperance  and  Sabbath-day  legislation.  We  were 
amazed  to  see  the  English  ladies  present  in  handsome  dinner 
dresses  of  blue  silks  and  short  sleeves.  Afterwards  Mr.  Garrison 
spoke  to  a  Woman  Suffrage  meeting,  and  pleaded  for  women's 
emancipation,  and  he  would  begin,  he  said,  "at  just  that  caged 
gallery."  This  was  in  keeping  with  his  love  of  securing  a  strik 
ing  point  and  leading  on  to  the  whole  question. 

Among  other  friends  I  will  only  mention  Mrs.  Nichols,  widow 
of  Professor  Nichols,  the  astronomer.  She  was  not  then  as  she 
afterwards  became,  blind,  but  in  her  old  age  she  was  most  cheer 
fully  and  usefully  occupied,  and  she  was  always  active  in  re 
form.  Her  copy  sent  me  of  Professor  Nichols's  "  Architecture 
of  the  Heavens,"  illustrated  by  David  Scott,  is  one  of  my  most 
prized  possessions. 

When  I  returned  home  in  1878  I  found  an  invitation  awaiting 
me  to  give  a  course  of  lectures  on  Art  at  the  Concord  School  of 
Philosophy  in  the  following  summer. 

I  had,  as  I  so  often  have  before  and  since,  the  painful  feeling 
that  I  owed  this  invitation  rather  to  the  wish  to  do  hqnor  to 
women  by  giving  them  an  equal  position  than  to  my  own  in 
dividual  merits,  for  I  felt  poorly  qualified  for  the  task.  I 
believed,  however,  that  it  was  my  duty  to  appear  as  a  representa 
tive  woman  and  do  the  best  I  could. 

This  School  had  long  been  a  cherished  project  of  Mr.  Alcott. 
It  had  no  precedents  to  follow,  and  was  bound  by  no  ordinary 
rules.  I  think  the  spirit  which  animated  it  was  a  desire  to 
awaken  and  diffuse  in  the  community  a  more  spiritual  view  of 
life  and  thought,  without  antagonizing  the  religionists  on  the  one 
hand,  or  the  scientists  on  the  other.  If  so,  has  not  this  school 
done  its  part,  and  a  large  one  in  bringing  about  that  drawing  to- 


122  REMINISCENCES    OF    EDNAH    DOW   CHENEY. 

gether  of  science  and  religion,  which  is  to  my  mind  the  most  re 
markable  feature  of  thought  in  our  times  ? 

Although  the  great  natural  leaders  of  the  movement  in  the 
work,  Alcott  and  Emerson,  were  both  past  their  prime,  and  fell 
out  of  the  ranks  after  the  first  years,  yet  their  influence  was 
potent  in  it.  Mr.  Alcott  gave  more  than  one  course  of  lectures. 
He  had  then  attained  that  serenity  of  views  which  enabled  him 
to  look  calmly  at  institutions  which  he  had  criticised  in  his 
youth,  and  to  find  in  the  past  records  of  thought  the  seed  and 
promise  of  the  new.  It  has  been  asserted  that  he  changed  his 
religious  views,  but  I  think  he  never  did.  The  early  association 
with  the  Episcopal  church  was  pleasant  to  him,  and  he  put  up  a 
memorial  window  in  memory  of  his  mother.  But  his  thought 
was  the  same.  He  used  the  same  formulas  as  in  his  early  days. 
Will  not  a  deep  religious  thinker  take  up  again  many  rejected 
beliefs,  and  find  in  them  a  living  truth,  though  he  has  not  lost 
the  sense  of  their  partial  error  or  narrowed  interpretation  which 
forced  him  to  perhaps  exaggerated  protest  in  his  youth  ?  For 
this  service  to  me,  for  it  is  one,  I  feel  indebted  to  Mr.  Alcott, 
and  still  more  to  Mr.  Harris,  whose  broad,  comprehensive  mind 
cannot  give  up  the  hold  on  any  truth,  and  whose  keen  wisdom 
always  sees  its  relation  to  the  newest  discovery. 

I  cannot  give  a  history  of  this  famous  School  or  its  members, 
but  I  must  speak  of  the  charming  social  enjoyment  in  it.  As 
we  walked  home  from  the  evening  session  under  the  light  of  the 
moon,  beneath  the  tall  trees  that  shadowed  our  path,  one  group 
or  another  would  pass  by  with  a  few  words  of  the  intellectual 
feast  which  we  had  enjoyed  together,  thus  bringing  us  into  a 
beautiful  and  hearty  communion. 

It  was  a  sweet,  holy,  blessed  time  for  a  season  only,  never  to 
be  repeated,  but  never  to  be  forgotten.  Many  a  mind  opened  in 
that  flowering  time  whose  fruitful  seeds  have  been  borne  abroad, 
and  I  think  the  thought  of  our  time  has  been  largely  moulded 
by  the  influences  started  there. 


CONCORD   SCHOOL   OF   PHILOSOPHY.  123 

One  of  the  most  interesting  men  who  spoke  occasionally  at 
the  School  of  Philosophy  was  David  A.  Wasson.  He  was  not 
enrolled  with  the  Transcendentalists  at  so  early  a  period  as 
most  of  those  connected  with  the  school,  and  caine  to  their 
ranks  through  somewhat  different  disciplines  and  influences. 

Born  in  Maine  and  belonging  to  a  genuine  Orthodox  family, 
he  was  early  alienated  from  the  prevailing  doctrines,  and 
thought  out  his  religion  and  philosophy  from  his  own  stand 
point  and  experience.  But  his  nature  was  so  sweet  and  true 
that  he  never  thought  bitterly  of  those  who  held  such  severe 
constraint  over  his  early  life.  His  account  of  a  revival  in  his  own 
little  town  gives  a  very  true  and  reverent  account  of  what  such 
an  experience  actually  brought  to  many  who  came  under  its  in 
fluence.  In  his  satirical  poem  of  "  The  Revival  Preacher,"  it  is 
difficult  to  separate  the  genuine  belief  from  the  false  theology 
and  egotistic  vanity  of  the  speaker. 

I  think  the  best  of  his  poems  will  live  like  the  sonnet  of 
Blanco  White's.  He  suffered  much  from  his  eyes,  and  finally 
became  almost  totally  blind. 

In  his  will  he  committed  to  me  the  care  of  collecting  and 
publishing  his  poems.  I  had  just  met  with  an  accident,  and  in 
my  hours  of  forced  quiet,  I  gained  communion  with  his  deepest 
and  finest  moods. 

Mr.  Frothingham,  in  his  biography,  speaks  of  something 
wanting  in  this  noble  nature,  and  implies  that  he  lacked  humor 
and  perception  of  others'  needs.  I  acknowledge  the  lack,  and 
yet  Mr.  Frothingham's  view  does  not  solve  the  difficulty  to 
my  mind.  I  found  him  sympathetic  and  most  responsive  to 
kindness.  When  the  Women's  Club  sent  him  a  purse  of 
money  before  his  European  trip,  he  said,  "It  is  especially 
welcome  as  coming  across  known  differences  of  opinion."  And 
at  a  similar  occasion,  when  a  collection  was  made  to  employ 
a  hoped-for  cure,  his  reply  was,  "God  bless  you,  and  all  who 
value  my  health  more  than  their  money." 


124  KEMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

Yet  it  is  true  that  he  did  not  meet  the  popular  heart  as 
Theodore  Parker  did.  At  the  Twenty-Eighth  society,  many 
were  warm  admirers  and  friends,  others  complained  that  they 
could  not  understand  him,  but  his  adherents  were  not  always 
confined  to  the  highly  educated  people.  I  remember  an  intelli 
gent  mechanic  and  his  wife  who  were  devoted  to  him.  My  little 
girl,  then  eight  years  old,  said,  "  Mamma,  I  liked  Mr.  Wasson ;  I 
did  not  quite  understand  all  he  said,  but  I  liked  him."  He 
was  greatly  pleased  with  her  speech.  "  If  I  have  spoken  to  a 
child,  that  is  something,"  he  said. 

He  was  not  a  master  of  humor,  although  he  sometimes  used 
an  apt  illustration,  as  when  he  compared  Mr.  Lincoln  to  a 
ratchet  wheel  which,  once  set  to  the  right  point,  held  fast ; 
but  at  other  times  he  pursued  a  figure  until  he  ran  it  into  the 
ground.  He  was  apt  to  speak  too  long  and  weary  his  auditors. 

I  feel  that  he  was  greater  than  we  knew;  he  never  found 
adequate  expression  for  the  spiritual  life  which  overflowed  him. 
James  F.  Clarke  once  said,  "  He  is  the  greatest  thinker  among 
us."  In  many  respects  he  was  a  reactionist,  and  did  not  accept 
some  of  the  most  prized  opinions  of  his  Transcendental  friends. 
He  doubted  of  equal  suffrage ;  he  believed  in  a  hierarchy  of  the 
noble,  the  good,  the  wise,  who  were  to  rule  by  divine  right. 
His  objection  to  the  suffrage  for  women  rested  more  on  his 
general' unwillingness  to  increase  the  number  of  voters  than  on 
any  want  of  faith  in  the  highest  capacity  of  women.  His 
respect  and  tenderness  for  them  held  no  contempt.  He  was  not 
quite  of  his  time,  and  never  met  the  popular  feeling,  but  by  a 
circle  of  friends,  many  of  whom  differed  heartily  from  his 
opinions,  he  was  reverenced  and  loved  with  unfailing  devotion. 

He  was  in  youth  full  of  boyish  life,  and  in  wrestling  with 
some  far  more  athletic  opponent,  he  injured  his  spine  so 
severely  that  he  was  ever  after  the  victim  of  a  nervous  disorder, 
which  at  times  caused  him  excruciating  agony  and  often  left 
him  a  prey  to  depression.  Yet  his  wonderful  buoyancy  of 


CONCORD   SCHOOL   OF   PHILOSOPHY.  125 

nature  enabled  him  to  rise  above  his  sufferings,  and  produce 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  lyrics  in  the  language,  not  only 
for  its  rapt  expression  of  the  highest  optimism,  but  from  the 
painful  circumstances  under  which  it  was  written.  Exquisite 
sensibility  to  pleasure  and  to  suffering  was  the  result  of  his 
temperament  and  his  physical  disease ;  after  the  exertion  of 
preaching  he  often  sank  to  a  degree  of  sadness  until  he  said, 
"  I  pity  everything ;  I  pity  my  child  that  he  is  born ;  I  pity 
God  that  he  exists."  But  his  strong,  clear  mind  overruled  his 
emotions  and  kept  his  thought  in  poise.  He  always  seemed 
to  me  the  truest  interpreter  of  the  laws  of  Spirit.* 

A  very  remarkable  woman  took  a  large  part  in  the  Concord 
School,  although  I  think  she  did  not  often  speak  at  a  regular 
lecture.  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody  was  so  well  known  and  so 
generally  beloved  that  she  won  rightly  the  name  of  the  "  Grand 
mother  of  Boston/'  for  she  had  cared  for  and  educated  and 
blessed  three  generations  of  Boston's  citizens.  Her  great  intel 
lectual  powers  have  been  often  overlooked  in  the  recognition  of 
her  great  heart,  which  felt  for  all  the  homeless  and  helpless  per 
sons  who  appealed  to  her  sympathies.  She  was  devoted  to  her 
family  in  all  times  of  trial,  and  not  less  true  to  her  many  and 
beloved  friends,  but  she  was  not  confined  to  these  friends ;  her 
sympathy,  not  in  words  alone  but  in  great  deeds,  flowed  out 
almost  without  restraint  to  the  children,  to  the  foreigner,  to 
the  slave,  and  to  the  Indian.  I  never  had  the  good  fortune  to 
be  her  pupil,  but  many  have  borne  witness  to  her  rare  power 
as  a  teacher.  Her  essays  in  "  The  Dial  "  are  of  marked  excel 
lence  by  the  power  of  her  thought,  by  her  pure  English  style, 
and  her  broad  and  temperate  judgments. 

Withal  she  was  the  most  simple-hearted  and  unconscious  of 
beings,  and  stores  of  anecdotes  are  told  of  her  absence  of  mind 
and  of  her  enthusiastic  doings,  and  her  carelessness  of  dress 

*  Wassou's  Poems,  edited  by  E.  D.  Cheuey.  Life  and  Essays,  by  0.  B. 
Frothingham. 


126  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

and  conventionality.  I  will  only  speak  of  her  remarkable 
appearance  at  the  last  lectures  of  the  Concord  School.  She 
was  then  quite  old  arid  was  often  unable  to  keep  awake  during 
the  lectures.  As  she  sat  on  the  platform  the  audience  believed 
her  to  have  slept  sweetly  through  the  discourse,  yet  after  the 
lecturer  ceased  she  would  arouse  and  discuss  the  profound 
topics  presented  to  the  School  making  the  clearest  and  most 
important  suggestions  offered  by  any  one.  Mr.  Harris  was 
especially  struck  by  the  richness  and  pertinence  of  her  remarks. 
Her  latest  enthusiasm,  as  well  as  her  earliest,  was  in  education, 
and  she  became  an  ardent  apostle  of  the  kindergarten,  in  which 
she  personally  engaged.  In  giving  my  own  dear  child  to  her 
care  I  did  not  value  so  much  the  rules  of  the  kindergarten  as  the 
opportunity  of  leading  a  young  girl  into  the  respect  and  love  of 
one  of  the  noblest  women  I  have  known.  It  is  the  great  regret  of 
her  many  friends  that  there  is  no  adequate  biography  of  her. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  recording  an  anecdote  which  so  far  as 
I  know  has  never  been  printed.  It  has  to  me  a  specially  dear 
significance,  with  which  I  will  preface  the  account. 

My  little  sister  Anna  was  obliged  occasionally  to  pass  through 
a  narrow  passage  where  she  once  met  a  rat,  and  was  much 
frightened  by  it.  She  was  hardly  five  years  old  but  I  thought 
it  most  important  to  give  her  courage  for  the  little  effort  and 
I  told  her  of  the  story  I  am  about  to  relate.  I  did  not  tell  her 
she  must  go  alone,  arid  might  easily  have  found  some  one  to 
accompany  her.  She  came  back  to  me  singing  and  said,  "I 
went  all  alone,"  and  she  was  never  afraid  afterward. 

Margaret  Fuller  gave  me  the  story  of  Waldo  Emerson,  who  is 
so  beautifully  commemorated  by  his  father  in  the  "  Threnody." 

Little  Waldo  went  to  school  at  quite  a  distance  from  home, 
and  on  the  way  a  French  family  lived.  He  was  much  excited 
by  the  strange  language  and  was  unwilling  to  pass  by  them. 
Some  person  therefore  accompanied  him  to  and  from  school. 


CONCORD    SCHOOL   OF   PHILOSOPHY.  127 

Mr.  Emerson  thought  it  was  time  for  his  son  to  conquer  his 
foolish  fears.  After  assuring  him  of  the  harmlessness  of  the 
French  family,  he  told  him  that  some  one  would  take  him  to 
school  that  day,  but  nobody  would  call  for  him,  he  must  come 
home  alone. 

When  the  school  was  out  the  little  fellow  felt  so  much 
afraid  to  pass  through  the  way  that  he  leaned  on  the  gate  of 
the  yard  in  helpless  tears. 

Miss  Elizabeth  Hoar  lived  opposite,  and  from  her  window 
saw  the  dear  little  sufferer,  and  crossing  over  to  him  she  said, 
"  Come,  Waldo,  I  am  going  down  town,  come  along  with  me." 
Waldo  looked  up  into  the  kindly  face,  then  his  own  coun 
tenance  cleared  up,  and  he  said,  "  I  do  not  think  that  is  what 
my  father  wishes."  He  went  on  alone  and  never  again  found 
himself  in  the  bondage  of  fear. 

One  other  story  of  Mr.  Emerson,  told  rne  by  a  dear  friend,  I 
must  preserve. 

Mrs.  C had  a  colored  servant  whom  she  had  taken  from 

an  almshouse,  a  very  poor,  homely,  seemingly  degraded  being, 
but  she  proved  capable,  faithful,  and  affectionate. 

When  Mrs.  C returned  from  the  house  where  Mr. 

Emerson  had  died  she  said  to  the  girl,  "Nancy,  our  good  neigh 
bor  is  gone." 

"  Oh,  inarm,"  she  replied,  "is  he  gone?  then  he'll  never  call 
me  Nancy  again." 

"  Why,  did  he  always  say,  '  Good-morning '  to  you,  Nancy  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  C . 

"  Oh,  yes,  marm,  he  never  came  here  nor  met  me  in  the  street 
but  he  said,  'Good-morning,  Nancy,'  or  'How  do  you  do, 
Nancy?"  He  gave  her  all  she  asked,  she  received  the  best 
good  that  was  possible  to  her. 


128  ,       REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

ART. 

"  It  is  not  enough  to  draw  forms  fair  and  lively, 
Their  conduct  likewise  must  be  beautiful ; 
A  hearty  holiness  must  crown  the  work, 
As  a  gold  cross  the  minster  dome,  and  show, 
Like  that  instonement  of  divinity, 
That  the  whole  building  doth  belong  to  God." 

FESTUS. 

"VTATUEE  made  some  mistake  in  my  composition.  She  gave 
me  a  great  love  of  Art,  without  any  corresponding  genius 
for  production  or  talent  for  execution.  I  have  ever  cherished 
the  greatest  reverence  for  artists,  and  believed  that  somewhere 
in  the  vast  possibilities  of  eternity  I  should  receive  the  endow 
ment  denied  me  here.  I  have  often  wondered  how  much  of 
my  life-long  devotion  was  awakened  by  a  book  which  I  began 
to  read  when  I  was  only  eight  years  old.  It  was  in  a  series 
called,  "The  Pursuit  of  Knowledge  under  Difficulties."  The 
subject  was  illustrated  by  the  biographies  of  men  in  different 
walks  of  life,  but  in  my  volume  the  majority  were  artists.  I 
followed  their  struggles  with  poverty  and  neglect  until  I  came 
to  feel  that  the  pursuit  of  Art  was  the  one  great  object  in  life 
and  that  all  other  things  should  give  way  to  it. 

From  that  time  to  this,  the  life  of  the  artist  has  always 
seemed  the  highest  and  truest  expression  of  the  full  life  of 
the  soul.  But  the  word  has  expanded  in  meaning,  until  I  have 
seen  that  it  must  stand  in  true  relation  to  the  whole  circle  of 
thought  and  action.  The  artist  must  not  be  a  dreamer  only, 
but  a  worker  for  humanity,  a  reformer.  Thus  Michael  Angelo 


ART.  129 

served  his  country  in  the  darkest  days  of  her  history,  and 
Victor  Hugo  was  at  once  statesman  and  warrior  and  poet 
while  his  heart  beat  with  the  love  of  humanity.  Life  is  the 
sum  of  all  arts,  and  the  true  artist  puts  into  expression  for 
others  the  truths  he  has  learned  from  all  nature,  experience,  and 
thought.  "  God  is  the  great  Artist." 

It  has  been  customary  to  speak  of  American  Art,  and  its 
representatives,  as  suffering  from  cruel  neglect  and  poverty  in 
the  early  days  of  the  country,  and  it  has  been  contemptuously 
doubted  whether  American  life  offers  any  opportunity  for  Art.  I 
feel  that  this  is  a  very  shallow  view  of  the  subject.  It  is  absurd 
to  expect  from  a  new  people,  struggling  with  a  wilderness,  to 
found  schools  of  painting  or  collect  galleries  of  Art,  and  the 
founders  of  our  own  New  England  did  not  lay  great  stress  on 
this  side  of  life ;  but  the  early  records  show  abundant  instances 
of  the  early  longing  of  the  people  for  Art,  and  of  the  generous 
munificence  which  helped  and  encouraged  the  artist.  The 
biographies  of  West,  of  Stuart,  of  Trumbull,  and  above  all,  of 
Allston,  are  enough  to  indicate  the  love  of  Art  which  wras  in  this 
people  and  struggling  for  expression.  The  story  of  West  is  too 
well  known  to  need  repetition,  but  the  Quaker  boy,  rising  to 
be  the  favorite  of  an  English  king,  yet  preserving  his  loyalty 
to  his  struggling  country  through  all  her  trials,  is  full  of  inter 
est.  We  may  not  place  his  actual  achievement  in  Art  very 
high,  but  he  will  compare  favorably  with  most  of  his  English 
contemporaries,  and  he  ever  held  high  the  standard  of  Art,  both 
in  his  truth  to  nature  and  in  his  relations  to  other  artists,  to 
whom  he  was  a  faithful  and  generous  friend. 

There  is  an  original  power  in  Trumbull,  which  atones  for 
his  defects  in  education,  which  makes  his  works  fresh  and  in 
teresting,  and  which  calls  forth  recognition  from  Goethe,  and 
from  Thackeray  the  injunction,  "Xever  underrate  or  despise 
Trumbull." 

He  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  noble  type  of  the  chivalric 


130  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

gentleman.  In  Margaret  Fuller's  first  work,  "  A  Summer  on  the 
Lakes/'  she  gives  a  very  touching  story  of  a  man  tragically 
married  to  a  coarse,  unworthy  woman,  and  bearing  his  burden 
with  the  most  manly  courage  and  silence.  Mrs.  Clarke,  the 
mother  of  Margaret's  dear  companion  on  this  journey,  Miss 
Sarah  Freeman  Clarke,  told  me  that  this  heroic  sufferer  was 
Colonel  Trumbull.  I  tried  in  vain  to  gain  any  verification  of 
this  fact,  until  many  years  afterward,  when  Mr.  Sanborn  sent 
me  a  passage  giving  an  account  of  Colonel  Trumbull's  conduct 
from  an  eye-witness : 

"Iiia  letter  of  King's  to  Gore  (Feb.  19,  1817)  he  relates  partic 
ulars  of  this  Englishwoman's  intemperate  conduct  at  a  ball  of  the 
French  minister  in  Washington.  As  King  was  sitting  in  conversa 
tion  with  Correa,  the  Portuguese  minister,  he  said,  Mrs.  T.  quitted 
her  husband's  arm,  and  sallying  towards  me,  almost  tumbled  into  my 
arms,  but  by  good  fortune  brought  up  on  a  empty  chair  at  my  right. 
She  told  me  how  much  she  esteemed  me,  hoped  I  was  her  friend  and 
her  husband's  friend,  and,  under  pretence  of  a  low  conversation,  put 
her  mouth  to  my  ear.  Correa  expressed  in  his  countenance  admira 
tion,  and  all  who  passed  halted  to  observe  our  tete-a-tete.  Mr. 
(H.  G.  Otis)  happening  to  appear,  she  made  out  to  rise  and  take  hold 
of  him,  beginning,  as  with  me,  to  declare  her  esteem  for  him,  and 
invoking  his  friendship.  '  How  does  Mr.  Gore  do  1  Is  he  any  bet 
ter?  and  Mrs.  Gore,  I  hope  she  is  well1?  he  is  one  of  my  best  friends, 
he  is  my  father,  he  gave  me  to  my  husband  ;  Oh,  how  much  I  love 
him.'  This  morning  I  saw  Colonel  Trumbull  on  some  business  \  he 
looked  as  usual,  without  any  expression  of  mortification  in  his  coun 
tenance.  I  had  thought  I  would  try  to  muster  up  fortitude  to  tell 
him  freely  how  much  his  own  character  suffered  by  this  scandalous  con 
duct  of  his  wife  ;  but  his  amiable  countenance  and  polite  manners  dis 
couraged  me  ;  and  we  parted  as  usual,  —  except  that  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  make  the  usual  inquiry  concerning  his  wife." 

Stuart,  as  a  portrait  painter,  is  still  unsurpassed  in  force  and 
vigour  in  the  delineation  of  character. 

But  to  Allston  we  are  most  of  all  indebted  for  the  high  stand 
ard  of  idealism  which  makes  his  works  so  dear  and  elevating, 


ART.  131 

to  the  heart  and  mind.  Unfortunately  his  works  do  not  bear 
the  ravages  of  time,  many  of  them  are  already  much  injured.  I 
well  remember  the  excitement  when  his  great  picture  of  Bel- 
shazzar's  feast  was  unrolled  from  its  long  oblivion,  and  first  pre 
sented  for  exhibition.  The  tragic  grandeur  of  the  half-erased 
soothsayers,  and  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  group  of  Jewesses 
made  a  deep  impression.  But  perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
thing  about  Allston  was  the  effect  of  his  personality  on  other 
artists,  who  all  looked  up  to  him  as  "  one  of  the  Immortals." 
As  one  contemporary  said  when  he  died,  "  I  have  lost  all  rny 
inspiration  in  Art,  since  I  feel  that  he  will  not  see  my  work." 

It  was  my  blessed  privilege  for  five  years  to  share  the  life  of 
one  who  was  a  true  artist  both  in  his  life  and  his  work.  His  fame 
was  not  wide,  his  work  was  limited  to  a  few  years,  but  there  is 
not  a  touch  of  his  pencil  which  does  not  bear  witness  to  his 
high,  conception  of  his  art,  to  his  great  knowledge  of  human 
nature  on  its  best  side,  and  to  his  entire  conscientiousness  and 
devotion.  Through  him  I  came  to  know  some  of  the  artists  of 
that  day,  and  I  was  very  much  struck  with  their  generous  rela 
tion  to  each  other.  Our  artists  then  were  mostly  self-taught 
and  had  to  gather  knowledge  of  their  art  from  their  own 
experience.  Some  of  them  indeed  went  to  Europe  in  later 
years,  but  I  think  it  was  usually  after  they  had  made  a 
name  for  themselves  here.  Accordingly  there  was  usually  great 
difference  in  the  merit  of  their  works,  a  happy  inspiration  was 
not  always  well  carried  out,  and  they  did  not  form  a  permanent 
style.  I  have  seen  in  the  house  of  a  well-known  connoisseur,  a 
portrait  of  Alexander's  which  we  mistook  for  a  fine  old  work  of 
the  Italian  school,  yet  many  of  his  paintings  were  very  harsh 
and  crude.  Frothingham,  who  started  in  life  as  a  carriage- 
painter,  at  times  achieved  an  excellence  at  which  Stuart  mar 
velled,  saying,  "He  does  not  know  himself  what  a  good  thing  he 
has  done." 

After  the  publication  of  the  memoirs  of  my  husband  I  had  a 


132  EEM1NISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

very  interesting  and  delightful  opportunity  in  an  exhibition  of 
the  works  of  John  and  Seth  W.  Cheney,  at  the  Museum  of 
Fine  Arts.  The  collection  was  prepared  with  great  care  by 
Mr.  S.  li.  Koehler,  and  contained  most  of  the  works  of  these 
artists. 

The  collection  of  portraits  was  a  joy  to  many  hearts,  for  they 
represented  the  dearest  and  best  people  of  our  city  and  time, 
and,  as  one  of  the  managers  of  the  Art  Museum  said,  "  It 
seemed  like  Thanksgiving  Day,  gathering  together  the  loved 
ones  who  met  again  ! " 

Mr.  Cheney's  work  represented  the  transcendental  period,  and 
it  preserved,  especially  in  the  portraits  of  women,  the  beautiful 
blending  of  intellectual  expression  with  the  womanly  sweetness 
of  modesty  and  grace.  His  favorite  themes  were  old  men  and 
women,  and  children  who,  in  their  budding  beauty,  prophesied 
the  deeper  meanings  of  life. 

Yet  the  portraits  of  men  are  not  less  striking  in  character 
and  beauty ;  the  youthful  face  of  Bryant  gives  all  the  poetry 
and  truth  which  the  artist  found  in  this  favorite  poet. 

It  was  the  most  stormy  time  of  a  stormy  winter,  and  many 
lost  the  opportunity  of  seeing  this  collection,  which  can  probably 
never  be  repeated. 

I  will  say  a  few  words  of  the  contemporary  artists  whom  I 
have  known.  Hamrnatt  Billings  was  a  man  of  the  rarest  intel 
ligence,  almost  amounting  to  genius.  He  was  a  most  delightful 
talker  and  excelled  in  his  talent  for  nearly  every  style  of  art. 
But  he  lacked  the  finer  element  of  conscience  which  looks  upon 
Art  as  a  sacred  calling,  and  he  scattered  his  forces  in  many 
different  and  unworthy  directions.  His  pecuniary  necessities 
forced  him  into  work  for  other  architects,  who  bought  his  de 
signs  and  used  them  according  to  their  own  purposes.  He  was 
so  careless  in  the  construction  of  his  buildings  that  in  one  case 
he  planned  a  room  with  no  possible  means  of  entrance  to  it 
unless  by  a  ladder  from  the  outside.  He  designed  a  church  for 


ART.  133 

Mr.  Waterston's  society  in  Bedford  Street,  which  was  nearly 
perfect  both  in  design  and  execution.  It  was  afterwards  taken 
down. 

He  made  many  illustrations  for  books  arid  for  Fourth  of  July 
fireworks  as  well.  One  of  his  best  works  was  a  series  of  illus 
trations  for  "  Pilgrim's  Progress."  I  think  it  was  never  pub 
lished  and  I  do  not  know  where  it  now  is. 

Joseph  Ames  had  a  brilliancy  of  color  and  boldness  and  free 
dom  of  execution  which  gave  great  promise.  A  fine  portrait  of 
Daniel  Webster  was  one  of  his  most  successful  paintings.  An 
occasional  coarseness  marred  his  work. 

Mr.  Cheney's  success  in  portraiture  in  crayon  led  several 
other  artists  to  try  the  same  style.  Of  them  Samuel  Piowse 
achieved  the  greatest  popularity.  His  pictures  of  children  were 
full  of  grace  and  beauty,  but  he  did  not  succeed  so  well  in  por 
traying  older  and  more  thoughtful  heads,  such  as  Emerson, 
James  Kussell  Lowell,  and  Abby  W.  May. 

When  I  showed  Theodore  Parker  the  portrait  of  Emerson  in 
photograph,  he  said,  "  That  is  not  Emerson ;  that  man  could  not 
do  the  things  Emerson  has  done."  I  always  regretted  that 
Ptowse  did  not  work  in  color ;  his  few  attempts  in  this  line  have 
great  delicacy  and  beauty. 

When  I  was  about  twenty-one  years  old  my  father  and 
mother  both  sat  for  their  portraits  to  William  Page,  the  artist 
mentioned  by  James  Russell  Lowell,  in  his  "  Fable  for  Critics," 
in  these  words : 

"  Be  true  to  yourselves  and  this  new  nineteenth  age 
As  a  statue  by  Powers,  or  a  picture  by  Page." 

He  was,  indeed,  a  man  of  extraordinary  talent  and  full  of  ideas. 
Of  a  passionate  and  wilful  temperament,  he  was  absorbed  by 
theories,  and  his  work  was  often  damaged  by  experiments  in 
color  and  material.  I  learned  much  from  him,  for  he  allowed 
me  to  sit  and  watch  the  whole  process  of  painting  my  mother's 


134       KEMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH  DOW  CHENEY. 

picture.  He  entirely  rejected  Iris  first  two  attempts,  .and  only 
completed  it  on  a  third  trial.  His  method  of  painting  at  that 
time  was  to  make  a  careful  outline  in  black  and  red,  neutral 
color,  then  to  alternate  blue,  black,  and  red,  working  out  the 
features  more  distinctly,  until  the  requisite  amount  of  red,  and 
the  proper  depth  of  shadow  is  attained.  Then  he  added  a  film 
of  yellow,  and  finally  glazed  a  delicate  film  of  white  over  it  all. 
He  was  very  fond  of  deep  color,  and  was  glad  of  a  chance  to 
use  red  and  yellow  as  much  as  possible.  The  result  in  this  case 
was  very  rich,  both  in  the  drapery  and  flesh,  and  was  much  ad 
mired  by  Hamilton  Wild  and  other  young  colorists.  It  was 
painted  in  1846,  and  is  now  as  fresh  and  brilliant  as  at  first,  but 
I  do  not  think  it  very  true  to  the  character  and  expression  of 
my  mother.  It  is  stiff  and  rigid,  and  has  none  of  that  sweet, 
modest  bloom  which  distinguished  her  all  her  life.*  My 
father's  portrait  is  thoroughly  realistic,  but  more  lifelike. 

I  enjoyed  Page's  conversation  very  much,  but  he  said  that  he 
would  never  again  let  any  one  see  a  portrait  of  his  until  it  was 
finished ;  he  found  that  he  painted  to  my  eye  instead  of  his 
own,  and  wanted  to  have  the  likeness  increase  at  every  sitting. 
Page  was  a  thorough  realist,  and  would  have  needed  no  injunc 
tion  to  paint  the  wart  on  Cromwell's  nose,  but  his  imagination 
sometimes  penetrated  below  the  surface  very  deeply  into  the 
real.  He  told  me  that  he  was  once  asked  to  paint  the  portrait 
of  a  lady,  the  president  of  a  benevolent  society.  She  was  the 
very  ideal  of  ugliness,  like  Charles  Lamb's  Mrs.  Conrady  ;  there 
was  a  perfect  harmony  in  it,  it  impressed  you  at  once  and 
forever.  Page  delighted  in  portraying  the  full  expression. 
Nothing  was  softened  or  omitted.  The  lady's  daughter  sat 
with  her,  but  was  not  allowed  to  see  the  portrait.  When  it  was 
finished  Mr.  Page  told  her  to  look  at  it.  As  she  stood  and  gazed, 

*  I  have  always  preferred  for  this  reason  the  portrait  of  a  crayon  by  Miss  Har 
riet  Cheney  (Mrs.  James  Cheney),  a  cousin  of  my  husband.  She  was  a  young 
artist  of  great  promise. 


ART.  135 

she  put  up  one  hand  to  wipe  her  moistened  eye,  and  then 
another,  and  then  burst  out,  "  My  mother  is  a  good  woman,  if 
she  is  homely."  Page  thought  his  work  a  success. 

Page  was  an  excellent  draughtsman,  and  was  much  interested 
in  working  out  a  scheme  for  human  proportion.  He  took  his 
hint  from  Eevelation,  but  how  he  worked  it  out  I  cannot  tell ; 
but  it  is  a  curious  instance  of  his  vein  of  mysticism  in  the 
midst  of  his  realism.*  Among  the  interesting  portraits  which 
he  painted  in  Boston  was  one  of  James  Eussell  Lowell's  first 
wife,  Maria  White,  and  a  portrait  of  President  Eliot  for  Me 
morial  HalL 

An  extract  from  Longfellow's  "  Life  "  gives  a  good  account  of 
Page's  art: 

"A  call  from  Emerson,  who  gave  us  an  account  of  Page's  new  picture 
of  Euth,  which  he  thinks  very  fine. 

"  'It  imposes  silence  on  you,  which  is  the  effect  of  all  great  paintings. 
The  figures  are  solid,  and  like  sculpture  could  be  weighed,  and  as 
some  one  said,  "  If  you  scratched  them,  they  would  bleed." '  After 
ward  came  in,  full  of  the  picture.  .  He  said  the  same  things  that 

Emerson  had  said  about  the  figures  being  weighed,  and  bleeding  if 
scratched,  and  imposing  silence.  So  that  is  probably  the  received 

phraseology  in  regard  to  the  painting.  He  said,  moreover  that 

had  uttered  the  following  judgment  on  the  piece  :  'It  is  the  greatest 
thing  that  America  has  yet  done  in  painting  or  in  anything  else.'  Let 
me  breathe !  It  is  the  fashion  with  Young  America  to  consider 
Allston  a  mere  dauber  in  comparison  with  Page." 

I  saw  this  picture  in  his  studio  with  much  interest,  but  I  do 
not  think  posterity  has  ratified  the  opinion  of  contemporary 
critics. 

His  life  was  a  tragic  one,  and  his  fame  does  not  answer  to  his 
early  promise,  but  he  was  a  genuine  artist  and  I  have  always 
felt  grateful  for  my  early  acquaintance  with  him. 

*  I  think  the  passage  was  Rev.  xxi.  17  :  "And  he  measured  the  wall  thereof, 
a  hundred  and  forty  and  four  cubits,  according  to  the  measure  of  a  man,  that  is,  of 
an  au gel." 


136  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW  CHENEY. 

Alpheus  Carey  Morse  was  another  friend  possessing  great 
natural  talent,  but  he  lacked  concentration  and  perseverance  in 
his  line  of  art.  Some  of  his  portraits  are  very  beautiful,  how 
ever,  as  one  of  Miss  Ariana  S.  Walker,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Frank 
B.  Sanborn,  and  one  of  Mrs.  Follen.  He  devoted  his  last  years 
to  architecture,  in  which  he  was  successful.  He  was  one  of  the 
most  genial  and  delightful  of  companions. 

I  will  now  speak  of  Kimberley,  since  he  has  already  reached 
so  great  an  age  that  he  will  hardly  be  living  when  these  pages, 
if  ever,  see  the  light.  One  of  the  most  eccentric  of  human 
beings  he  combined  rare  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  delicate 
feeling  and  warm  enthusiasm,  with  a  recklessness  of  manner 
and  heedlessness  of  conduct  which  sorely  tried  the  patience  of 
his  friends,  though  he  still  held  within  bounds  and  did  not 
lose  their  regard.  He  had  the  soul  and  eye  of  an  artist,  but 
his  education  was  defective  and  he  had  not  the  constancy  of 
purpose  to  make  up  for  this  defect.  He  would  begin  a  portrait 
with  great  feeling  and  enthusiasm,  and  it  was  full  of  promise, 
but  he  had  exhausted  himself  in  the  first  stages  and  could  not 
finish  it  with  equal  skill.  He  had  the  most  intense  love  of  my 
husband  and  a  great  regard  for  all  his  family.  They  are  in 
debted  to  him  for  many  cheerful  hours.  •  After  Mr.  Cheney's 
death  Mr.  Kimberley  made  repeated  attempts  to  reproduce  his 
features  in  sculpture,  in  painting,  in  crayon,  and  even  in  engrav 
ing.  All  have  some  valuable  glimpses  of  likeness,  and  yet  they 
are  seldom  harmonious  and  complete  enough  to  give  perfect 
satisfaction.  Still,  they  remain  the  best  things  that  have  been 
done  and  the  one  engraved  for  the  memoir  gives  the  best  expres 
sion  of  his  subject.*  He  removed  to  Paris  when  he  was  quite 
aged,  where  his  wife  died,  but  he  still  continues  to  paint  although 

*  I  must  make  an  exception  of  a  life-size  photograph  by  Mr.  Hawes,  which 
has  been  worked  up  in  crayon  by  some  hand,  I  do  not  know  whether  by  Mr. 
Hawes  himself  or  by  John  Cheney.  This  is  by  far  the  most  expressive  likeness  of 
Mr.  Seth  W.  Cheney  remaining. 


ART.  137 

in  his  ninetieth  year.  He  was  an  excellent  singer  and  rendered 
alike  sacred  and  comic  music  with  the  greatest  effect.  Many 
will  remember  him  as  one  of  the  choir  at  Trinity  Church,  where 
he  was  retained  for  his  rare  sympathetic  voice,  although  his 
behavior  often  scandalized  the  dignitaries  of  the  church.  He 
was  brimming  over  with  fun  and  frolic,  but  as  the  natural  result 
of  such  a  temperament  was  often  depressed  and  moody. 

Another  very  different  person  was  Eichard  Staigg,  best  known 
as  a  miniature  painter.  An  Englishman  by  birth  he  had  all  the 
sterling  traits  of  conscience,  fidelity,  and  unselfishness  which 
make  up  the  moral  fibre  of  an  artist,  He  began  life  humbly  in 
Xew  Bedford,  where  he  supported  his  mother  by  his  labor, 
but  the  miniature  painting  in  which  he  spent  his  leisure  hours 
attracted  the  attention  of  connoisseurs  and  he  was  soon  able  to 
devote  himself  entirely  to  his  art.  He  was  always  a  gentleman  in 
manners  and  deportment,  and  his  art  partook  of  the  same  quali 
ties  :  it  wTas  graceful  and  pleasing,  but  lacked  individuality  and 
strength.  His  portrait  of  Daniel  Webster  is  only  a  pleasing 
miniature  likeness. 

Similar  traits  characterized  Thomas  Ball,  who  has  given  in 
his  reminiscences  a  beautiful  story  of  fidelity  and  truth  to  his 
own  thought.  His  mother  was  dependent  upon  him  for  support 
and  care.  He  had  an  equal  love  of  music  and  the  plastic 
arts,  and  was  ready  to  do  anything  honest  by  which  he  could 
support  her.  His  first  experiments  were  in  color,  in  which  he 
was  not  very  successful ;  taste  seemed  lacking  to  restrain  the 
violent  effects  which  attracted  him.  At  last  he  found  his  true 
place  in  sculpture,  and  has  given  us  many  ideal  works  of  great 
beauty.  But  he  has  told  his  own  story  so  simply  and  clearly 
that  I  need  only  give  him  my  tribute  of  respect  and  welcome 
him  to  the  brotherhood  of  Art. 

William  Furness  too,  blessed  soul  that  he  was,  kept  his  high 
place  in  Art  by  his  true  moral  nature.  Loving  Art  from  his 
childhood  he  turned  from  the  road  to  wealth  which  was  offered 


138  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

to  him,  and  firmly  relying  on  himself,  devoted  his  life  to  the  pur 
suit  of  Art.  Yet  he  knew  himself  perfectly  and  was  under  no 
delusion.  For  him  it  was  the  pathway  of  hard  work  not  of  swift 
guiding  genius.  He  was  faithful  to  his  task.  When  he  saw  the 
exhibition  of  the  famous  Dusseldorf  school  he  said  "  It  makes 
me  sad;  it  is  all  that  talent  and  industry  can  accomplish."  He 
died  young  but  he  left  a  few  works  of  great  merit,  especially  a 
portrait  of  Mr.  Emerson  and  one  of  his  father,  the  beloved  min 
ister.  One  fine  saying  of  his  was,  "  It  is  the  bad  work  that 
discourages  me,  the  finest  picture  always  makes  me  hopeful  for 
myself." 

Eastman  Johnson  began  his  career  in  crayon  portraiture,  with 
great  vigor  and  truth  to  nature  in  his  work,  but  his  drawings 
lacked  the  delicacy  and  ideality  which  make  this  branch  of  Art 
attractive.  He  afterwards  went  to  Holland  and  studied  many 
years,  and  has  made  an  enduring  reputation  by  his  paintings  in 
oil.  I  have  seen  but  little  of  his  later  work.  His  name  re 
calls  an  amusing  incident  which  shows  the  progress  of  woman  in 
the  last  half-century.  When  I  first  saw  him  in  Paris  in  1854, 1 
met  him  at  an  evening  reception.  As  he  sat  beside  me  he 
noticed  a  very  pleasing  lady  well  and  handsomely  dressed  (Dr. 

N C ),  and  asked  me  who  she  was.  I  answered,  "  She 

is  Dr.  C ;"  but  he  did  not  seem  to  understand  and  asked 

again.  "  She  is  here  attending  medical  lectures  with  her 
brother,  Dr.  Talbot."  "  What ! "  he  said  in  extreme  surprise, 
"a  doctor  !  Does  she  ride  about  in  her  gig?"  "I  don't  know 
whether  her  practice  yet  warrants  that,'5  I  said,  "  but  I  have 
other  friends  who  are  physicians."  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  tell  me 
some  more  of  your  Boston  notions ;  I  have  been  seven  years  at 
the  Hague  and  have  heard  notlfing." 

Owing  to  the  illness  of  our  party,  I  had  little  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  artists  in  Paris  or  elsewhere  in  Europe.  I  met 
Christopher  P.  Cranch  and  William  Story  and  William  M.  Hunt. 

Hunt  was  one  of  the  few  American  artists  who  could  not 


ART.  139 

complain  of  defective  education.  He  had  every  opportunity 
which  money  and  the  interest  of  his  friends  could  procure.  But 
most  of  all  he  had  the  friendship  and  companionship  of  Fraugois 
Millet,  the  great  painter  of  modern  times.  I  think  Hunt's  best 
works  were  done  under  his  influence,  and  bear  the  stamp  of  his 
love  of  nature  and  keen  perception  of  life  and  character.  But 
Hunt's  works  never  have  the  earnest  love  of  humanity,  which 
makes  everything  of  Millet's  great  and  tender.  He  had  much 
charm  of  color  and  a  feeling  for  homely  beauty,  but  even  his 
peasants  have  a  high-bred  air  unlike  Millet's  genuine  creations. 

His  best  portraits. are  very  noble,  —  Judge  Shaw's,  for  instance, 
—  but  he  often  failed  in  the  delineation  of  character.  He  was 
wilful  and  passionate,  and  had  not  mastered  the  secrets  of  life 
so  as  to  make  all  service  a  high  purpose.  His  last  great  work, 
the  frescoes  at  Albany,  I  cannot  but  regard  as  a  miserable 
failure.  He  did  not  seek  to  meet  the  wants  or  feelings  of  the 
people  to  whom  his  work  was  to  be  addressed,  but  indulged  his 
own  fancy  for  a  remote  and  obscure  foreign  legend. 

The  drawing,  the  action  of  the  horses  was  admirable,  but  the 
thought  and  the  life  of  the  work  were  wanting  ;  at  least  they  did 
not  speak  to  his  audience.  "  Perhaps  I  should  like  them  better 
if  I  knew  what  they  were  about,"  said  a  countrywoman  at  the 
Capitol.  Time  has  dealt  ruthlessly  with  them,  and  they  are  now 
destroyed  or  removed.  By  his  lessons  to  his  classes  and  by  the 
inspiration  of  his  conversation  he  did  great  service  to  woman. 

I  saw  Ary  Scheffer  in  his  own  studio,  and  he  looked  the  great 
artist  that  he  was,  one  who  spoke  the  language  of  tender  senti 
ments  of  homely  truth.  I  took  lessons  of  his  less  known 
brother,  Henri  Scheffer,  a  good  draughtsman,  but  no  genius. 

But  I  had  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  two  artists  of 
less  note.  William  Babcock  attracted  us  by  his  charming 
naturalness,  and  his  hearty  admiration  of  his  great  master 
Millet.  He  had  the  misfortune  to  leave  home  and  country  early, 
and  even  in  Paris  he  did  not  have  the  regular  instruction  of  a 


140  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

school  or  teacher,  so  he  never  thoroughly  acquired  the  first  prin 
ciples  of  drawing.  His  love  of  color  arid  his  exquisite  appreciation 
of  it  could  not  wholly  make  up  for  the  defect,  and  his  pictures 
give  only  the  feeling  which  color  expresses,  without  the  intel 
lectual  meaning  which  form  best  reveals.  Living  without  home 
and  family  he  was  wayward  and  moody,  but  withal,  most  affec 
tionate  and  winning  in  his  personality.  When  we  were  in 
Barbizon  he  spent  every  evening  at  Millet's  home,  and  would 
give  us  charming  accounts  of  Millet's  relations  to  his  children, 
and  of  his  reading  to  them  fairy  stories,  and  the  old  Bible  his 
tories.  It  was  amusing,  and  at  the  same  time  very  interesting, 
to  see  the  delight  which  the  grown  man  had  in  passages  from 
the  Bible,  which,  to  most  people,  had  become  worn  out  and 
hackneyed  by  senseless  repetition,  but  which  had  to  him  all  the 
freshness  of  original  thought  when  heard  from  the  lips  of  genius. 
He  was  our  companion  in  trying  days.  He  has  left  some  gems 
of  painting,  as  well  as  a  valuable  collection  of  prints  and  photo 
graphs  to  our  Art  Museum. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  a  brief  acquaintance  with  Pierre  Millet, 
the  younger  brother  of  Francois,  who  at  one  time  resided  in 
Boston.  He  told  me  he  well  remembered  when  his  brother  had 
the  first  idea  of  the  Angelus.  Millet  always  dwelt  much  on  the 
effect  of  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  on  the  distinctness  and 
beauty  of  sound,  and  one  evening  he  called  his  brother's  atten 
tion  to  the  quality  of  the  air  as  most  favorable  to  sound,  and 
said  that  he  would  like  to  paint  a  picture,  in  which  this  appear 
ance  of  the  air  would  indicate  the  sounds  that  filled  it.  He 
took  the  evening  bell  as  adapted  to  the  hour,  and  has  so  per 
fectly  represented  not  only  the  stillness  of  the  evening,  made 
more  impressive  by  the  distant  bell,  but  the  sacred  feelings  of 
the  young  couple  who  listen  to  the  sound,  that  no  one  doubts 
that  the  bell  is  actually  sounding,  or  fails  to  lift  his  soul  to 
heaven  in  response.  Pierre  Millet  said  that  he  himself  stood 
as  model  for  the  study  of  the  peasant's  attitude. 


ART.  141 

And  dearest  of  all  was  the  French  painter  Dubourjal,  a  type  of 
the  best  Frenchman,  whom  I  hold  to  be  about  the  best  result  of  the 
civilized  world.  He  never  attained  great  fame,  but  was  simple, 
true,  and  conscientious.  He  set  aside  his  own  happiness  to  sup 
port  his  mother  and  sisters,  but  was  the  most  cheerful  and 
sympathetic  of  companions.  He  had  been  to  this  country,  and 
here  painted  the  miniature  of  my  husband  and  his  brother  John 
(treasures  they  are),  and  a  few  others,  but  he  did  not  win  great 
success  here,  and  he  returned  to  his  home.  For  tenderness  of 
feeling,  delicacy  of  expression,  and  fine  sympathy,  I  have  never 
met  his  superior. 

One  of  my  husband's  early  friends,  although  much  younger 
than  himself,  was  George  Fuller.  He  worked  in  New  York 
mostly,  at  the  time  when  he  knew  Mr.  Cheney,  where  he  had  a 
rising  reputation.  But  after  his  father's  death  he  retired  to  his 
farm  in  Greenfield,  Mass.,  where,  in  the  interval  of  his  farm 
labors,  he  produced  many  of  his  most  charming  pictures.  The 
quiet  and  simplicity  of  the  country  were  reproduced  in  such 
beautiful  representations  as  Winifred  Dysart,  whose  unconscious 
beauty  recalls  the  line  of  Shakspeare,  — 

"  Iu  maiden  meditation  fancy-free." 

When  he  returned  to  Boston  he  was  at  once  warmly  wel 
comed,  and  in  the  short  time  which  he  remained  he  gave  us 
many  valuable  portraits.  His  last  work  finished  was  a  portrait 
of  my  daughter.  Among  those  pictures  which  he  painted  in 
Greenfield,  was  an  admirable  portrait  of  a  domestic  in  his  house 
hold,  who  is  a  noble  representative  of  a  truly  brave,  honest 
working-woman.  It  is  as  significant  of  the  worth  of  labor  as 
Millet's  peasants. 

Dr.  William  Kimmer  was  a  remarkable  man  rather  than  a 
great  artist.  His  early  history  is  strange  and  romantic,  and 
accounts  for  many  of  his  peculiar  characteristics.  He  was  first 
known  here  as  a  physician  who,  residing  near  the  granite  quarries 


142  KEMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

of  Quincy,  had  cut  from  the  granite  a  head  of  St.  Stephen  of 
remarkable  vigor  and  expression.  It  is  now  in  the  collection 
of  the  Art  Museum.  It  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr.  Stephen 
Perkins  and  other  connoisseurs,  who  persuaded  him  to  devote 
himself  to  the  pursuit  of  Art.  He  was  a  skilful  anatomist,  and 
he  began  his  new  career  as  a  teacher  of  artistic  anatomy,  confining 
his  lessons  to  the  outer  signs  of  the  muscles,  joints,  etc.  He 
was  a  very  inspiring  teacher  and  soon  had  a  class  of  enthusiastic 
young  ladies,  among  whom  were  some  of  great  promise.  I  re 
member  well  Miss  Abby  May  Alcott,  Miss  Susan  Hale,  Miss 
Harriet  Cheney,  Miss  Elizabeth  Bartol,  Miss  Elizabeth  Greene, 
and  others,  who  attained  to  much  excellence.  His  off-hand 
illustrations  on  the  blackboard  were  full  of  life  and  vigor.  Ar 
tists  admired  them  greatly  and  wished  to  preserve  them,  but  he 
could  not  carry  them  out  to  perfect  finish.  This  seems  to  me 
the  great  danger  in  American  Art.  It  remains  sketchy  and  fails 
to  preserve  the  first  expression  in  a  complete  work.  His  full- 
sized  statues,  of  which  one  of  Hamilton  is  in  the  Public  Garden, 
are  unequal  in  workmanship  and  unworthy  of  the  genius  of  the 
man.  He  was  not  a  student  of  nature,  but  bade  even  his  un 
formed  pupils  to  work  only  from  their  own  mind  and  avoid 
direct  imitation.  He  was  a  man  of  astonishing  variety  of 
resource,  with  great  love  of  literature,  and  wide  acquaintance 
with  art,  —  a  man  from  whom  one  might  learn  a  great  deal, 
rather  than  a  teacher.  He  gave  a  valuable  series  of  lessons  in 
the  Lowell  course  in  Boston,  I  believe  for  young  women  only ; 
and  as  a  curious  bit  of  history,  I  will  narrate  that  much  oppo 
sition  was  made  to  the  young  women  studying  from  the  nude. 
The  proposition  was  made  that  the  pupils  should  all  be  veiled 
during  the  lesson,  but  this  Mohammedan  solution  did  not  meet 
the  feeling  of  the  women,  and  I  think  the  lessons  were  not 
repeated. 

He  did  good  service  afterward  as  teacher  of  anatomical  draw 
ing  in  the  school  of  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts. 


ART.  143 

Michael  Angelo  has  always  been  the  great  artist  to  me.  I 
have  spoken  and  written  so  much  of  him  that  I  will  not  repeat 
it  here,  except  to  speak  of  his  poems  which  I  published  with 
selected  translations  (in  1885).  My  attention  was  first  called 
to  these  by  my  husband,  who  pronounced  them  equal  to  his 
paintings  at  the  Sistine  Chapel,  and  they  have  ever  since  been 
my  beloved  companions.  That  I  have  been  able  to  introduce 
them  to  a  few  lovers  of  art  is  one  of  the  few  literary  achieve 
ments  on  which  I  congratulate  myself. 

Albrecht  Durer  has  been  very  dear  to  me.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  strength  which  we  gained  from  his  wonderful  series 
of  the  "  Passion,"  especially  the  agony  in  the  garden,  when  my 
husband  was  very  ill  in  Dresden.  I  have  written  fully  of  him 
in  my  "  Gleanings  in  the  Fields  of  Art." 

But  my  best  artistic  gain  on  my  second  European  trip  was 
from  acquaintance  with  the  works  of  David  Scott,  the  Scottish 
genius  who  has  been  my  inspiration  and  help  for  over  fifty 
years.  It  is  still  the  delight  of  my  old  age  to  open  to  this 
young  generation  the  treasure  of  his  thought,  and  I  find  them 
prompt  to  receive  it  as  I  was  in  my  maiden  days.  Mr.  Emerson 
and  Margaret  Fuller  recognized  his  genius  as  early  as  1846,  and 
he  painted  that  portrait  of  Emerson  which  now  hangs  in  the 
Concord  Library,-  and  which,  in  spite  of  some  peculiarities  of 
color  and  manner,  yet  reveals  the  true  vitality  and  power  of  the 
great  thinker  more  than  any  other  representation  of  him.  The 
very  attitude  and  motion  of  the  hand  brings  his  person  before 
you. 

Mr.  Emerson  brought  home  to  Mr.  Alcott  a  set  of  Symbolic 
Monographs  of  Life  which  fully  answered  to  the  philosopher's 
thought.  Mr.  Alcott  lent  them  to  me,  and  I  studied  them  with 
such  interest  that  he  promised  to  leave  them  to  me  as  a  last 
legacy.  But  alas !  in  the  chances  and  changes  of  life  they 
disappeared,  and  I  have  never  received  them.  They  are  repro 
duced  in  a  volume  of  Scott's  designs  published  after  his  death, 


144        REMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH  DOW  CHENEY. 

but  something  of  the  original  strength  and  beauty  is  lost  in  this 
reproduction.  Mr.  Cheney's  first  Christmas  present  to  me  was 
a  copy  of  Pilgrim's  Progress  with  Scott's  illustrations.  They 
are  full  of  wonderful  meaning  and  beauty.  Dr.  Eimmer  said 
of  him,  "  The  designs  are  as  strong  as  Michael  Angelo."  When 
in  Edinburgh  I  took  pains  to  see  every  picture  of  his  that  I 
could  hear  of,  and  through  the  kindness  of  owners  I  saw  several 
noble  works.  I  have  procured  everything  that  was  possible, 
and  finally  through  the  kindness  of  the  wife  of  Prof.  Nichols,  I 
became  the  possessor  of  his  spiritual  and  beautiful  illustrations 
of  Nichols,  "  Architecture  of  the  Heavens."  I  remember  this 
book  well,  as  the  first  one  which  opened  the  heavens  to  me,  as 
Herschel  had  seen  them  through  his  great  telescope.  It  made  a 
powerful  impression.  I  was  at  the  seashore  and  as  I  stood  on 
the  beach  and  looked  up  to  the  broad  sky  above  me,  I  felt  lost 
in  the  immensity  of  the  spectacle  and  questioned  of  God.  "  What 
is  God  that  he  is  mindful  of  me  ? "  And  then  into  my  mind 
came  the  wonderful  thought  of  Law,  that  was  binding  all  these 
immense  worlds  into  harmony,  and  yet  cared  for  the  tiniest 
pebble  that  was  rolled  up  on  the  beach,  and  fashioned  by  the 
same  power,  and  according  to  the  same  cause.  Keligion  and 
science  "  met  and  kissed  each  other,"  and  I  have  never  doubted 
of  their  union  since.  Fifty  years  afterwards  I  found  the  same 
inspiration  in  this  book  as  in  my  youthful  days.  David  Scott 
died  before  he  completed  the  engraving  of  his  illustrations,  and 
they  were  finished  by  his  brother,  a  very  different  man  of  varied 
gifts.  His  memoirs  are,  however,  very  interesting,  and  contain 
a  most  impressive  picture  of  the  last  hours  of  the  great  artist.* 

And  now  a  word  of  the  women  who  have  made  such  advance 
in  art  during  the  century.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Rosa 
Bonheur  in  her  atelier  and  in  her  school.  She  was  direct, 

*  I  have  written  so  much  elsewhere  of  Scott  that  I  will  not  say  more  of  him 
here.  For  a  further  account  see  my  "  Gleanings  in  the  Fields  of  Art,"  or  still 
better,  the  life  of  Scott  written  by  his  brother. 


ART.  14-5 

business-like,  and  conscious  of  the  value  of  time,  yet  when  we 
(Miss  Clarke  and  myself)  introduced  ourselves  as  interested  in 
a  school  of  design  for  women,  she  invited  us  to  her  school,  made 
an  appointment  to  which  she  asked  us  to  be  punctual,  and  went 
through  the  school  with  us.  When  asked  as  to  her  method  of 

O 

teaching  she  answered,  "  Bon  Dieu  elles  dessinent,  et  moi,  je  les 
corrige." 

Our  own  countrywomen  have  achieved  greater  success  in 
sculpture  than  in  painting.  Harriet  Hosmer,  Anne  Whitney, 
and  others  less  known  to  me,  have  achieved  a  lasting  reputation, 
but  my  memory  dwells  tenderly  on  one  less  known,  but  hardly 
less  worthy,  if  unfortunate.  Poor  Margaret  Foley  struggled 
with  poverty  and  with  a  sensitive  temperament  which  made 
her  sometimes  a  prey  to  melancholy,  but  she  had  rare  powers 
which  may  yet  blossom  in  that  fair  clime  where  we  may  say 
"Good-morning."  She  was  a  poor  girl  from  New  Hampshire, 
and  I  first  knew  her  as  a  student  in  the  School  of  Design  for 
Women.  She  was  then  teaching  at  Lowell  in  the  afternoon, 
and  went  between  the  two  cities  every  day.  She  began  pro 
fessional  work  as  a  cameo  cutter,  and  had  gained  such  popu 
larity  that  she  had  orders  to  the  amount  of  one  thousand  dollars 
when  the  panic  of  1857  stopped  all  extravagance  in  art.  She 
received  only  fifty  dollars.  She  was  almost  discouraged,  but 
by  the  sympathy  and  encouragement  of  a  few  friends  (among 
whom  Miss  Sarah  F.  Clarke  was  foremost)  she  persevered. 
She  managed  later  to  save  four  hundred  dollars,  with  which  she 
went  to  Europe,  but  owing  to  the  high  price  of  exchange  at 
that  time,  her  four  hundred  dwindled  to  about  half  the  amount, 
and  she  was  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  Her  fellow-country 
woman,  Harriet  Hosmer,  was  her  kind  friend,  though  she  hardly 
knew  the  extent  of  her  destitution.  She  began  to  work  in 
sculpture  and  made  a  beautiful  model  for  a  fountain,  which, 
through  the  kind  offices  of  her  friend  Miss  Clarke,  was  proposed 

for  the  Park  at  Chicago,     The  bargain  was  all  but  completed 

10 


146  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW  CHENEY. 

when  the  disastrous  fire  of  1872  put  all  such  matters  out  of 
mind.  The  fountain  represented  three  or  four  children  playing 
about  the  stream.  One  of  them,  called  "  The  Timid  Bather," 
has  been  frequently  repeated,  and  is  a  charming  statue.  Among 
her  friends  were  William  and  Mary  Howitt,  who  loved  and 
helped  her  as  they  would  a  daughter.  Some  years  later  an 
order  was  received  from  Philadelphia  for  the  fountain.  But 
life  was  ebbing  away,  and  the  artist  had  the  sad  satisfaction 
of  receiving  on  her  death-bed  the  money  she  had  so  long  needed 
to  keep  her  in  life.  A  rare  and  beautiful  spirit !  A  medallion 
of  Charles  Sumner  belonging  to  the  New  England  Women's 
Club  is  the  only  important  work  of  hers  besides  the  fountain 
in  America. 

Equally  lovely  in  life  and  death  was  Jane  M.  Clark,  of  whom 
I  have  spoken  in  my  "  Memoir  of  S.  W.  Cheney." 

Miss  Sarah  Ereeman  Clarke  was  an  exquisite  landscape 
painter.  She  was  the  only  pupil  of  Allston,  and  she  learned 
his  idealism  and  quiet  poetic  beauty.  She  was  the  intimate 
friend  of  Margaret  Fuller.  Among  her  most  beautiful  works 
are  the  pictures  of  temples  in  Egypt,  and  also  a  very  interesting 
series  of  pencil-drawings  representing  all  the  places  made 
sacred  to  the  residence  of  Dante  through  his  long  and  varied 
exile.  Miss  Clarke  lived  many  years  in  Italy,  but  returned 
to  make  a  home  in  Georgia,  where  she  lived  to  old  age,  employ 
ing  her  pencil  without  glasses,  and,  what  is  even  better,  in  the 
service  of  the  colored  people  who  lived  around  her.  She  first 
formed  the  public  library  in  Atlanta. 


REFORMS,  147 


CHAPTER   X. 

REFORMS. 

"When  through  long  bitter  strife,  and  weary  years 

Freedom's  stern  battle  for  the  right  is  won, 

And  hope  takes  place  of  fear,  and  joy  of  tears, 

"Who  is  it  that  the  mighty  work  has  done  ? 

"  They  sought  no  glory  that  this  earth  affords, 

Saw  not  the  wreath  which  should  their  temples  twine ; 
Spoke  out  their  message  in  immortal  words, 
Such  Prophets  wist  not  that  their  faces  shine." 

ELIZA  LEE  FOLLEN. 

AN"  ray  return  from  one  of  my  Southern  journeys  in  1867  I 
found  a  new  and  most  interesting  society  had  been  formed, 
called  the  "  Free  Religious  Association."  I  was  extremely  sorry 
to  have  missed  the  first  meeting,  which  represented  a  spontan 
eous  movement  in  many  minds,  but  I  was  soon  appointed  a 
director  in  the  association  and  I  have  worked  in  it  ever  since. 
Theodore  Parker  was  gone,  but  he  had  left  his  impress  upon 
many  minds  who  were  longing  for  a  generous  communion  in 
religion  with  no  fetters  of  church  or  creed  or  nation.  The 
constitution  was  as  free  as  possible,  leaving  each  member 
responsible  for  his  own  opinion  alone.  It  is  impossible  to 
report  the  inspiration  and  freedom  of  the  first  meetings.  A 
galaxy  of  brilliant  minds,  such  as  may  never  gather  again, 
spoke  out  with  perfect  freedom  their  thought,  which  had  been 
maturing  in  silent  meditation  for  many  years.  Alcott  and 
Emerson  and  Octavius  B.  Frothingham  and  John  Weiss,  Francis 
E.  Abbot,  and  T.  W.  Higginson,  and  William  J.  Potter,  Samuel 
Johnson,  William  Henry  Chauning,  Cyrus  Bartol,  John  T. 


148  REMINISCENCES  OF  EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

Sargent,  Lucretia  Mott,  David  A.  Wasson,  Charles  A.  B.  Mills, 
and  Samuel  Longfellow,  with  many  a  lesser  light,  were  there, 
and  gave  us  year  after  year,  a  wealth  of  thought  unsurpassed 
in  its  richness  and  variety.  The  strong  characteristic  of  the 
new  society  was  that  it  did  not  stand  within  the  circle  of 
Christianity  alone,  but  welcomed  truth  from  any  source.  When 
Kesho  Chunder  Sen  founded  his  B  rah  mo  Somaj  in  India,  the 
Free  Eeligious  Association  of  America  responded  most  warmly, 
and  welcomed  him  to  their  communion ;  and  thus  was  begun 
that  great  work  which  has  naturalized  the  faiths  of  the  Eastern 
world  among  us,  and  given  us  a  brotherhood  with  the  Buddhist, 
Parsee,  and  Hindoo.  The  Jew  found  himself  no  longer  shut 
out  from  his  fellow-men,  and  felt  a  happiness  that  he  had  never 
known  before ;  while  the  agnostic  might  express  his  doubt,  and 
was  listened  to  with  calm  respect.  We  attempted  to  have 
representatives  of  all  sects,  but  found  that  they  would  not 
come  upon  our  terms ;  they  preferred  their  own  churches, 
where  they  could  appeal  to  emotion  and  feeling  uncontradicted 
by  reason  or  fact.  We  had  on  one  occasion,  however,  a  discus 
sion  by  Mr.  Abbot  and  a  Catholic  bishop,  on  the  great  question 
of  the  public  school ;  and  we  always  freely  invited  representa 
tives  of  different  faiths  to  address  us.  Neither  had  we  forgotten 
the  pleasure  of  fellowship,  and  our  evening  festivals  have 
offered  opportunity  for  the  most  genial  and  delighted  expression, 
especially  in  the  earlier  time,  when  Mrs.  Sargent  made  the 
salad,  and  Mrs.  Joslin  sent  her  unrivalled  baked  beans,  Miss 
Lucy  G-oddard  and  Miss  McDaniel  decorated  the  rooms,  and 
the  company  did  their  own  singing.  The  speakers  of  the  day 
then  had  a  separate  table  of  their  own,  and  the  young  lady 
waiters  were  charged  to  keep  them  supplied  with  the  best  of 
coffee,  that  they  might  be  refreshed  and  ready  for  the  enter 
tainment  of  the  evening.  But  times  changed,  and  the  caterer 
was  called  in,  and  a  different  spirit  prevailed.  Still  the  Festival 
holds  its  place,  and  gives  opportunity  for  that  fellowship  of  the 


REFORMS.  149 

spirit  which  our  constitution  states  to  be  an  object  of  the 
association. 

But  the  best  of  all  is  that  we  hope  we  are  becoming  useless, 
for  the  spirit  of  free  religion  is  fast  permeating  all  the 
societies.  How  much  of  it  is  due  to  our  special  efforts,  we  do 
not  care  to  estimate,  but  we  feel  that,  as  an  advance  guard,  we 
still  have  our  place  in  importance. 

Among  those  most  cherished  of  our  numbers  was  our  first 
secretary  and  later  president,  Mr.  Potter.  His  thorough  earnest 
ness,  his  entire  freedom,  united  with  a  gentle  tenderness, 
endeared  him  to  all,  so  that  he  could  speak  the  truth  without 
offence.  His  sudden  death  in  the  ripeness  of  his  powers,  when 
he  was  full  of  schemes  for  the  future  usefulness  of  the  associa 
tion,  was  an  irreparable  loss.  With  the  resignation  of  Mr. 
Higginson,  his  successor,  it  seemed  to  close. its  first  brilliant 
period.  Let  us  hope  that  under  the  new  re'gime  it  will  still  do 
good  work  wherever  it  is  needed. 

We  hoped  that  the  succession  of  Dr.  Lewis  G.  Janes  might 
become  a  link  between  this  early  brilliant  time  and  the  thoughts 
of  the  younger  generation  which  must  have  its  own  expression. 
His  perfect  liberality  of  mind  and  his  wide  scholarship  as  well 
as  his  genial  temper  made  him  especially  fitted  for  this  work, 
and  it  was  a  keen  disappointment  when  he  was  so  suddenly 
taken  from  life.  He  died  in  1901. 

We  hope  that  his  successor  will  take  up  the  torch  of  liberty 
with  all  the  enthusiasm  and  the  wisdom  of  youth. 

The  Parliament  of  Eeligions  in  Chicago,  in  1893,  was  a  most 
noteworthy  event.  It  seemed  a  real  Pentecost,  for  men  of  all 
times  and  faiths  met  together,  and  yet  all  seemed  to  speak  with 
the  same  spirit.  It  has  given  rise  to  several  other  meetings  in 
different  places.  This  has  emphasized  to  me,  most  strongly,  the 
importance,  not  only  of  unity,  but  of  difference.  The  Eastern 
religions  brought  to  us  great  enrichment,  because  they  had  pur 
sued  their  own  way  of  thought,  yet  each  had  arrived  at  the 


150  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

same  great  truths  though  with  varied  manifestations.  So  it  is 
uniformity,  and  not  unity  which  denies  all  faiths  but  its  own. 

This  Congress  of  Keligion,  at  the  great  celebration  of  the  Dis 
covery  of  America,  was  a  most  welcome  event,  exactly  in  line 
with  our  efforts  in  the  Free  Eeligious  Association,  but  broadened 
into  international  interests. 

It  was  very  striking  that  the  expressions  of  universal  reli 
gion  met  the  most  cordial  recognition  from  the  great  audience 
at  the  congress.  The  influence  of  the  meeting  has  spread  far 
and  wide.  One  delightful  result  from  the  general  growth  of 
this  broad  and  harmonizing  sentiment  is  the  hope  of  closing 
the  chasm  in  the  great  church  of  Congregationalism. 

Throughout  all  the  heated  controversy  of  Unitarianism  and 
Trinitarianism  both  parties  met  once  a  year  in  Anniversary 
Week,  and  now  there  seems  promise  of  a  deeper  union,  by  the 
spiritual  recognition  of  truths  which  have  been  held  to  the 
letter  and  disguised  to  the  spirit.  Such  changes  are  gradual,  and 
only  recognized  as  new  thinkers  can  cast  off  the  fetters  of  sect 
and  speak  and  act  as  independent  thinkers. 

A  rather  unique  association,  which  has  given  me  a  great 
deal  of  comfort  and  pleasure,  was  organized  in  1871  (American 
Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Women),  although  I  did 
not  join  it  until  a  year  or  two  later.  I  think  it  was  first 
started  by  members  of  Sorosis  and  other  friends  of  New  York, 
to  unite  all  the  women  who  were  interested  in  their  advance 
ment  by  holding  a  congress  once  a  year,  when  all  the  speakers 
should  be  women  and  they  should  discuss  all  matters  of  practi 
cal  or  theoretic  interest.  The  congresses  were  held  for  about 
twenty  years  in  different  cities,  and  were  generally  attended  by 
enthusiastic  audiences.  The  organization  of  the  society  was  a 
little  crude  and  cumbrous  and  did  not  work  wholly  without 
friction,  yet  it  accomplished  a  great  deal  of  good. 

We  were  always  entertained  in  the  cities  we  visited,  which 
gave  us  an  excellent  opportunity  to  make  friends  in  different 


REFORMS.  151 

parts  of  the  country,  and  to  think  more  justly  of  others  than  we 
had  done  before.  We  were  anxious  to  go  to  the  South  for  this 
reason,  and  were  much  pleased  with  a  cordial  invitation  to  go  to 
Memphis  for  a  congress.  We  met  with  a  very  kind  reception, 
although  one  of  our  number  could  remember  the  time  when 
thirty  thousand  dollars  was  offered  for  her  abolitionist  father's 
head  in  this  city,  where  Mrs.  Howe's  battle  hymn  was  now 
sung  again  and  again  in  compliment  to  her. 

At  Buffalo  the  ministers,  except  the  Unitarians,  preached 
against  us,  advising  their  people  to  stay  away  from  our  meetings. 
In  consequence  of  which,  perhaps,  we  had  the  most  successful 
congress  of  the  whole  series.  The  Opera  House  was  crowded, 
and  the  courtesy  of  the  entertainers  made  everything  delightful. 
Mrs.  Howe  was  asked  to  speak  in  the  Unitarian  church  on  Sun 
day,  and  did  so  to  a  crowded  audience.  The  Buffalo  people  have 
since  dated  all  their  progress  in  woman's  work  from  that  time. 
I  must  especially  mention  one  lady  who  joined  us  here,  who 
proved  very  valuable  in  our  subsequent  work,  Miss  Mary  A. 
Eipley.  She  had  been  a  skilful  teacher,  but  had  lost  her  health 
and  been  obliged  to  give  up  her  work.  She  was  a  fine  speaker 
and  had  such  exquisite  humor  that  she  won  her  audience  by  her 
very  -first  words,  yet  she  never  sank  below  her  level ;  her  fine 
English  marked  the  scholar  and  lady  in  everything  she  said, 
and  she  was  very  earnest  in  advocating  the  most  unpopular  re 
forms.  She  had  been  obliged  to  cut  off  her  hair  in  her  illness, 
which  showed  to  advantage  her  large  square  head.  At  Mem 
phis  she  was  said  to  resemble  the  Episcopal  minister,  and  when 
told  of  the  comparison,  he  replied,  "Yes,  I  know  it;  she  looks 
like  me  and  she  talks  like  me."  She  was  so  much  liked  there 
that  she  was  invited  to  remain  and  give  a  course  of  lectures.  It 
was  her  last  appearance  at  our  meetings ;  she  was  taken  ill  at  a 
little  village,  where  I  fear  she  suffered  want  of  care,  and  died. 
The  ladies  of  Buffalo  have  named  a  room  in  their  beautiful 
library  in  memory  of  her. 


152  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

We  were  received  with  kind  hospitality  at  the  South.  We 
visited  Louisville,  Knoxville,  Memphis,  Atlanta,  and  New 
Orleans.  At  Kuoxville  I  was  much  pleased  with  the  liberality 
shown  in  religious  matters.  Mrs.  Howe  was  invited  to  preach 
in  the  largest  Congregational  church  in  the  city,  and  what  was 
even  more  remarkable,  Mrs.  Wolcott  was  asked  to  repeat  in  the 
evening  an  address  on  a  charitable  subject  which  was  considered 
a  brave  utterance  in  our  meetings.  I,  being  a  little  more  of  a 
radical,  was  asked  to  speak  to  a  new  society  which  "  met  in  a 
small  upper  room,"  but  we  had  a  good  time  notwithstanding. 

While  we  went  to  the  South  in  an  entirely  friendly  feeling 
and  did  not  wish  to  antagonize  their  social  prejudices,  we  yet  de 
sired  to  express  our  own  feelings  in  regard  to  the  great  problem 
of  equal  relation  with  the  colored  portion  of  the  people.  We 
therefore  announced  visits  to  the  great  schools  at  Atlanta  and 
Tuskegee  as  part  of  our  programme. 

Our  reception  at  Atlanta  University  was  most  cordial  and  in 
teresting,  and  we  had  a  fine  reception  attended  by  many  pupils 
and  teachers  from  other  schools.  This  school  is  devoted  to  the 
higher  education  of  the  people.  Its  managers  believe  that  the 
fullest  development  of  the  mind  is  of  importance  to  the  best  wel 
fare,  and  is  the  right  of  every  human  being.  They  do  not  ignore 
the  present  condition  of  most  of  the  colored  people,  but  they  be 
lieve  in  inspiring  them  with  the  highest  ideals,  that  they  "  if  they 
be  lifted  up,  may  draw  up  all  others."  Their  great  purpose 
is  to  supply  good  teachers  to  other  schools.  Yet  they  do  not 
neglect  the  importance  of  manual  training,  but  do  excellent  work 
in  various  branches. 

I  was  also  very  much  interested  in  other  schools  in  Atlanta, 
especially  in  the  admirable  theological  school,  which  I  believe 
is  the  best  endowed  colored  school  in  the  country.  A  fine, 
manly  looking  class  of  colored  men  were  engaged  in  translating 
the  Greek  Testament,  and  I  could  not  but  think  what  a  great 
step  in  advanced  thinking  it  was  to  recognize  that  the  Bible 


REFORMS.  153 

was  a  translation,  and  did  not  come  directly  down  from  Heaven 
in  King  James's  version. 

At  Tuskegee  we  saw  the  working  out  of  a  different  problem. 
If  Mr.  Bumstead's  aim  is  to  develop  the  whole  man,  and  to 
show  that  the  negro  is  capable  of  receiving  and  wisely  using 
the  highest  education,  Mr.  Washington  is  endeavoring  to  meet 
the  most  urgent  and  most  wide-spread  want  of  the  present 
time,  by  a  severely  practical  education,  which  will  form  a  basis 
for  all  subsequent  attainments.  The  two  are  in  harmony,  for 
several  of  the  teachers  of  Tuskegee  are  from  the  Atlanta 
school.  , 

I  was  very  much  struck  with  the  change  in  the  address  of  a 
stranger  to  a  colored  man.  Formerly  he  said,  "  Whom  do  you 
belong  to  ? "  now  he  commonly  asks  a  young  man,  "  What  school 
did  you  go  to  ?  " 

Mr.  Washington  is  a  very  rare  man,  of  great  eloquence  and 
broad  knowledge  of  mankind,  which  enables  him  to  choose  his 
assistants  well,  and  his  own  modesty  of  character  and  demeanor 
almost  hides  his  superiority.  His  heart  is  bound  up  with  the 
future  of  his  people,  and  he  is  doing  an  immense  work  for  their 
recognition,  and  for  ultimate  amalgamation  with  the  other  ele 
ments  which  go  to  make  up  the  future  American  people. 

We  were  not  less  interested  in  a  little  club  which  Mrs.  Wash 
ington  had  established  for  the  women  of  the  neighborhood  on 
Saturdays,  when  they  come  into  town  to  do  their  weekly  shop 
ping.  This  day  had  mostly  been  spent  in  gossip  by  the  women, 
and  Mrs.  Washington  invited  them  to  meet  her  and  have  a 
little  talk  about  their  best  interests  and  partake  of  a  social  cup 
of  coffee.  While  these  women  waited  for  their  leader,  they 
beguiled  the  time  with  singing  spirituals  with  a  pathos  and 
beauty  which  far  surpassed  what  we  had  heard  in  the  schools. 
Young  America  is  neglecting  these  old  spirituals ;  it  loves 
better  to  sing,  as  other  people  do,  Moody  and  Sankey's  hymns. 
New  generations  prefer  to  voice  the  hope  of  the  future,  and  not 


154  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW    CHENEY. 

the  wail  of  the  past.  Yet  the  memory  of  those  old  songs  should 
be  preserved,  for  they  sustained  the  souls  of  the  people  through 
their  many  years  of  bondage.  In  the  morning  as  I  lay  luxuri 
ously  musing  in  the  beautiful  sunrise  light,  I  was  suddenly 
aware  of  music  sweeter  than  the  birds  sounding  through  the 
morning  air.  It  was  the  greeting  of  the  pupils  of  the  school, 
who  thus  welcome  their  visitors  to  a  new  day  with  them.  This 
was  an  instance  of  the  poetic  feeling  and  natural  religion  so 
precious  among  this  ignorant  people. 

I  must  preserve  one  anecdote  to  show  the  spirit  of  the 
times.  Two  of  our  friends  had  to  leave  earlier  than  we  did. 
At  the  station  they  found  a  white  gentleman  who  was  very 
much  inclined  to  be  courteous.  He  spoke  very  highly  of  Mr. 
Washington,  and  then  said,  "  I  am  afraid  you  ladies  have  not 
been  quite  comfortable  here,  as  the  hotel  is  very  poor."  "  Oh, 
yes,  we  were  very  comfortable,"  they  replied ;  "  Mr.  Washington 
entertained  us  in  his  own  house."  "  What !  "  said  the  man. 
"  Washington  is  a  very  good  fellow,  I  like  him  very  much ;  but 
I  'd  no  sooner  sit  down  in  his  house,  nor  have  him  sit  down  in 
mine,  than  nothing  at  all."  Miss  W.  replied,  "  Do  you  have 
two  Gods  down  here,  a  white  one  and  a  black  one?"  He  looked 
as  if  a  pistol  had  been  fired  at  him,  and  then  said,  "  Sometimes 
I  think  we  have  n't  any  God  at  all  down  here."  * 

This  story  well  illustrates  the  actual  feeling  of  the  South. 
They  have  no  personal  physical  feeling  against  contact  with 
the  African  race,  as  is  abundantly  proved  by  the  love  of  their 
old  mammys  and  other  relations,  but  they  are  utterly  opposed 
to  any  equality  with  their  former  slaves.  It  is  only  by  slow 
degrees  that  this  feeling  will  wear  away.  It  is  of  the  first  im 
portance  that  all  legislation  sanctioning  such  distinctions  should 
be  abolished.  We  cannot  have  permanent  peace  and  a  true 

*  This  was  in  1892  before  Mr.  Washington  had  been  welcomed  to  the  best 
houses  in  England,  and  had  sat  down  at  the  White  House  with  our  brave 
President, 


REFORMS.  155 

republic  with  a  body  of  millions  of  people  who  are  not  heartily 
one  with  us.  The  process  of  entire  fusion  of  different  races 
will  be  slow  and  attended  by  many  sufferings  and  wrongs  and 
cruelties,  but  the  result  must  be  accomplished  if  the  American 
republic  is  to  be  perfected  and  perpetuated. 

In  1868  the  New  England  Woman's  Club  was  formed.  It 
seemed  to  be  the  spontaneous  thought  of  many  minds.  I  do 
not  trace  it  so  directly  as  the  successor  of  the  sanitary  work 
during  the  war  as  Miss  Sprague  has  done  in  her  excellent  his 
tory  of  the  Club,  but  it  was  a  true  child  of  the  times,  and  evi 
dently  filled  a  want  felt  by  many.  The  almost  simultaneous 
origin  of  the  New  York  Sorosis  proved  this.  Mrs.  Howe  took 
up  the  idea  with  great  earnestness,  and  was  the  inspirer  of 
many  clubs,  both  here  and  in  Europe.  I  cannot  express  suffi 
cient  gratitude  for  the  constant  pleasure  and  comfort  it  has 
given  me ;  the  tie  between  the  members  was  very  strong,  and 
we  loved  to  be  together,  in  the  times  of  sadness  as  well  as  of 
joy  and  merriment. 

Who  will  ever  forget  the  spontaneous-  tribute  to  Charles 
Sumner,  Lydia  Maria  Child,  or  the  birthday  celebrations  of 
Miss  Lucy  Goddard  and  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody,  the  golden  wed 
ding  of  Mrs.  Judith  W.  Smith,  or,  still  later,  the  celebration  of 
the  eightieth  birthday  of  our  president  ?  The  condition  of  women 
has  greatly  changed  since  my  youthful  time.  No  young  woman 
is  satisfied  to  live  without  a  purpose,  and  the  woman  in  the 
loneliest  town  on  the  prairie  does  not  feel  isolated  when  she 
can  go  weekly  or  monthly  to  her  club,  or  once  in  two  years  to 
the  General  Federation,  and  gather  strength  and  comfort  and 
intellectual  help  by  meeting  with  other  women. 

From  the  formation  of  the  club  there  has  been  a  large  liber 
ality  for  all  religious  and  political  opinions,  and  a  sacred  regard 
for  the  recognition  of  all  races  of  men.  Frequent  meetings 
were  held  in  the  interest  of  the  colored  schools  of  the  South, 
and  contributions  were  made  for  their  help. 


156  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

We  welcomed  William  and  Ellen  Crafts  on  their  return  from 
their  visit  to  Africa,  and  frequently  heard  Dr.  Horace  Bumstead 
and  Mr.  Booker  T.  Washington,  and  other  teachers  of  the 
schools.  We  had  honored  members  of  the  colored  race  among 
our  speakers,  and  Mr.  Washington  was  unanimously  chosen  an 
honorary  member. 

I  can  never  forget  one  important  occasion  when  Mrs.  Lily 
Chase  Wyman  read  an  admirable  story  of  the  lives  of  two 
heroic  women,  Sarah  and  Angelina  Grimke.  Among  the  vis 
itors  was  the  venerable  Theodore  Weld,  the  husband  of  Ange 
lina,  whose  trembling  lips  bore  testimony  to  the  love  and  worth 
of  his  wife,  and  her  nephew,  Mr.  Archibald  Grimke,  who  told 
us  the  pathetic  story  of  himself  and  his  brother.  The  brother 
of  these  sisters  had  married  a  slave  woman  and  brought  up  her 
children  tenderly,  but  at  his  death  they  were  claimed  as  slaves 
and  subjected  to  all  the  misery  of  such  a  lot.  They  escaped, 
however,  and  several  years  afterward  Mrs.  Grimke  recognized 
them  at  a  Freed  men's  school.  The  sisters  adopted  them  as 
their  nephews,  and  gave  them  a  thorough  and  professional  edu 
cation.  One  is  a  successful  lawyer,  and  the  other  a  valued 
clergyman.  The  listeners  were  deeply  moved  by  these  speakers, 
and  many  a  mother  mourned  that  her  children  lost  such  an 
opportunity  to  hear  the  history  of  the  great  struggle  of  slavery 
which  can  never  be  repeated  from  such  lips. 

Many  benevolent  institutions  were  inaugurated  by  the  New 
England  Women's  Club.  One  was  the  Horticultural  School  for 
Women.  This  was  first  suggested  to  supply  the  need  of  out-door 
employment  for  women,  many  of  whom  suffered  from  sedentary 
in-cloor  lives.  A  society  was  formed  for  this  purpose,  of  which 
Abby  W.  May  was  president.  A  house  and  garden  were  hired 
in  Newton  and  a  greenhouse  built  for  the  purpose.  Mr. 
Barnard  was  chosen  for  the  principal  of  the  school  and  several 
pupils  entered  on  the  work.  A  legacy  was  given  to  the  school 
and  the  work  was  progressing,  although  rather  slowly.  An 


REFORMS.  157 

effort  was  then  made  to  interest  the  legislature  in  order  to 
obtain  further  means  to  perfect  the  school,  when  Bussey  Institu 
tion  was  opened  to  the  public,  and  announced  that  classes  in 
horticulture  would  be  opened  to  women.  This  seemed  to  close 
the  opening  to  further  assistance  from  the  legislature,  and  we 
supposed  that  the  pupils  would  be  transferred  to  this  institu 
tion.  We  were  cordially  interested  in  the  new  work,  but  it  was 
carried  on  with  very  little  vigor.  Mr.  Francis  Parkrnan  was 
the  professor  of  horticulture  and  gave  his  valuable  instruction  to 
a  few  pupils  sitting  on  boxes  in  the  greenhouse.  The  society 
kept  together  and  attempted  to  secure  applicants  to  the  school 
by  offering  free  tuition  to  the  classes.  But  there  was  no 
demand  for  instruction.  The  legacy  was  accumulating  and  the 
treasurer,  Mr.  Edward  W.  Hooper,  felt  that  it  should  be  applied 
to  good  uses.  We  petitioned  the  legislature  to  enable  us  to 
convey  the  property,  then  amounting  to  seven  or  eight  thousand 
dollars,  and  at  our  request  the  money  was  given  to  the  Mass 
achusetts  Institute  of  Technology  for  scholarships  for  women  in 
kindred  sciences.  Since  that  time  there  has  been  more  activity 
in  the  work  at  Bussey,  and  there  is  much  greater  general  interest 
in  horticulture  for  women. 

Another  interest  fostered  by  the  Club  was  that  of  dress 
reform,  but  I  was  not  specially  engaged  in  it. 

When  a  young  girl  I  first  met  the  poet  Whittier.  I  saw 
him  at  the  house  of  my  friend,  Mrs.  Pitman,  one  of  his  dearest 
friends,  but  I  had  no  special  talk  with  him.  When  I  had  left 
the  room  he  turned  to  his  friend  and  said,  as  I  went  out,  "  See 
that  girl  under  a  Quaker  bonnet  and  she'd  preach  in  six 
months." 

I  never  had  the  advantage  of  a  Quaker  bonnet,  but  I  was 
very  much  inclined  to  the  preaching.  I  had  no  regular  calling, 
but  I  was  often  asked  to  address  the  colored  people  at  the  South, 
and  I  preached  to  them  with  great  delight. 

The  first  time  I  spoke  in  a  regular  church  or  meeting-house 


158  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH  DOW  CHENEY. 

among  white  people,  was  at  a  Methodist  church  in  Boston.  A 
certain  minister  of  that  sect  had  the  wish  of  having  women  in 
his  pulpit.  He  first  invited  Mrs.  Howe,  and  she  suggested  ask 
ing  me  to  succeed  her.  I  accepted  the  regular  invitation 
readily,  but  a  short  time  afterwards  the  reverend  gentleman, 
probably  alarmed  by  the  reputation  of  free  religion,  wrote,  ask 
ing  me  to  please  "  to  put  as  much  of  the  gospel  as  possible  into 
my  sermons."  I  thought  the  advice  rather  impertinent,  but  I 
took  no  notice  of  it. 

I  chose  for  the  subject  of  my  discourse,  "The  Value  and 
Sacredness  of  this  Present  Life."  I  was  somewhat  puzzled  to 
find  a  text  for  the  sermon,  either  in  Old  or  New  Testament,  and 
I  applied  in  vain  to  a  well-known  clergyman  to  aid  me,  but  I 
did  the  best  I  could. 

The  organ  and  the  choir  were  placed  directly  behind  me,  and 
such  a  storm  of  melody  almost  drove  everything  out  of  my 
head.  But  I  was  in  earnest  and  spoke  of  what  I  thought.  I 
was  rewarded  by  the  interest  of  at  least  one  hearer,  a  working- 
girl  in  a  printing-office,  who  came  to  me  and  thanked  me,  say 
ing,  "  I  never  prized  my  life  before."  The  minister  said  to  me, 
"  How  can  you  preach  so  earnestly  without  any  gospel  ?  "  I 
thought  it  was  the  right  gospel  for  my  young  woman,  at  least. 
He  then  offered  to  pay  my  expenses,  which  consisted  only  of  a 
car  fare  from  Brookline.  I  graciously  refused,  but  accepted  a 
book,  which  did  not  convert  me  to  his  gospel. 

I  spoke  several  times  at  the  Sunday  afternoon  meetings  of  the 
Free  Religious  Association  at  Horticultural  Hall,  and  have 
occasionally  spoken  at  churches  in  various  places.  I  never,  how 
ever,  made  a  regular  business  of  either  lectures  or  sermons.  I 
have  spoken  when  I  was  asked  to  speak,  and  offered  such  as  I 
had  to  give. 

I  found  the  warmest  and  heartiest  response  from  my  colored 
hearers.  They  seemed  utterly  unconscious  of  differences  of 
thought,  but  entered  into  a  perfect  sympathy  of  religious  feel- 


REFORMS.  159 

ing.  This  remarkable  power  of  the  negro  nature,  to  enter  into 
religious  and  spiritual  life,  beneath  all  the  superstitions  and 
extravagances  of  his  expression  has  sustained  and  comforted  him 
through  all  his  sufferings,  and  when  he  has  developed  through  a 
life  of  freedom  and  education,, he  will  add  a  precious  treasure  to 
the  religious  life  of  our  people. 

Another  great  movement  in  which  I  was  most  deeply  in 
terested,  although  I  have  not  taken  so  active  a  part  in  its 
management,  is  the  Women's  Suffrage  movement.  While  I  be 
lieved  in  making  the  full  and  direct  claim  for  suffrage  as  a  right, 
it  yet  seemed  to  me  very  important  that  women  should  be  ready 
to  meet  its  duties  and  obligations  when  they  came,  and  so  I  have 
been  especially  interested  in  the  plans  for  their  education  and 
employment.  The  movement  for  school  suffrage  which  was  begun 
by  the  New  England  Women's  Club  seemed  to  me  timely  and 
valuable,  and  I  gladly  accepted  a  post  in  the  Massachusetts 
School  Suffrage  Association.  Its  great  work  was  in  putting 
women  on  the  school  committees.  The  members  of  the  com 
mittee  were  chosen  from  the  Club.  Miss  Crocker  was  one  of 
our  greatest  successes ;  and  her  admirable  qualities  as  com 
mittee  woman  and  supervisor  silenced  all  opposition  to  her. 
Miss  Abby  W.  May  was  another  very  important  woman.  She 
was  president  of  the  School  Suffrage  Association,  but  ill-health 
frequently  prevented  her  discharge  of  its  duties.*  Miss  Lucia 
M.  Peabody  did  good  service  on  the  School  Committee  for 
nine  years.  Before  long  an  important  difference  arose  among 
the  women  voters,  which  resulted  in  the  formation  of  a  party 
called  "  The  Independent  Women  Voters."  This  was  formed 
by  the  more  decided  partisans  of  temperance,  who  wished  to 
introduce  temperance  text-books  into  the  schools,  and  who  were 
also  extremely  opposed  to  the  Catholics.  The  Association 
always  held  the  ground  for  entire  freedom  from  sectarianism  in 

*  See  memoirs  of  Miss  Crocksr  and  Miss  May. 


160  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

connection  with  the  schools,  and  while  earnest  for  temperance, 
did  not  advocate  some  of  the  measures  of  their  opponents.  The 
excitement  brought  many  women  out  to  vote,  and  as  time  and 
experience  has  somewhat  modified  their  extreme  views,  I  think 
the  party  has  done  good  service. 

For  these  reminiscences  I  have  abstained  generally  from 
speaking,  unless  incidentally,  of  living  persons,  but  I  cannot 
refrain  from  a  tribute  of  love  and  respect  to  our  president,  Julia 
Ward  Howe,  with  whom  I  have  been  intimately  and  tenderly 
associated  for  over  fifty  years.  At  her  advanced  age  her  life  is 
rounded,  and  she  need  not  pass  through  the  portals  of  the  grave 
before  she  is  assured  of  victory,  and  the  laurels  that  await  her. 
Still  more  the  remembrance  and  love  of  her  contemporaries 
attend  her  at  every  step  of  her  path.  I  will  not  speak  of  her 
public  virtues,  for  they  are  known  before  the  world,  but  I  must 
bear  testimony  to  her  great  sympathy,  to  her  tender  love,  and 
her  simple  courage  and  faithfulness.  Graced  by  every  social 
charm,  she  has  yet  found  respect  for  the  humble  and  helpful 
tenderness  for  the  outcast.  The  entire  truthfulness  which  is  so 
seldom  united  with  graciousness  of  manner,  has  won  my  respect 
through  all  circumstances.  She  has  passed  through  many  and 
varied  experiences,  and  has  won  from  all  the  sweetness  of  her 
life,  happy  in  the  children  and  grandchildren  around  her,  and 
honored  and  blessed  in  the  hopeful  success  of  the  causes  she 
has  so  steadily  pursued. 

NOTE.  —  The  Boston  Radical  Club  should  be  mentioned.  It  was  a  more 
private  society  in  sympathetic  relation  with  the  Free  Religious  Association,  but 
was  swamped  by  its  slight  organization  and  wide  hospitality.  The  generous 
hostess  welcomed  everybody  and  many  curious  listeners  came,  not  sympathetic 
with  the  original  members.  Instead  of  the  calm  deliberation  of  philosophies,  the 
advocates  of  special  reform  monopolized  the  discussions,  and  personal  disputes 
were  not  unknown.  Reporters  were  finally  allowed  and  they  prevented  free 
expression,  in  consequence  of  which  Mr.  Emerson  ceased  to  attend.  It  became  a 
brilliant  literary  entertainment,  but  had  no  lasting  influence. 


CONCLUSION.  161 


CHAPTER   XL 
CONCLUSION. 

"  And  with  the  lust  of  their  historie 
Sometime  I  draw  into  Memorie 
How  Sorrow  may  not  ever  last 
And  so  Hope  cometh  in  at  last." 

GOWER. 

"M"EAELY  my  whole  life  has  been  contained  within  the  nine 
teenth  century,  for  in  the  morning  of  the  twentieth  carue  a 
crisis  in  my  physical  condition  which  gave  me  pause,  and  bid  me 
look  forward  to  the  inevitable  change  which  must  end  this  mor 
tal  career,  even  while  its  postponement  may  give  a  period  of 
calm  retrospection  of  the  life  that  had  gone  before.  I  look 
therefore  upon  the  little  meagre  leavings  that  I  have  gleaned 
out  of  the  rich  and  varied  past  which  has  been  granted  me,  and 
seek  for  them  an  indication  of  the  meaning  of  the  events,  the 
feelings,  and  the  thoughts  which  make  up  the  great  whole  into 
which  every  private  experience  is  weaving  its  special  part. 

Every  age  is  bound  closely  to  its  predecessor  and  its  successor, 
and  we  see  clearly  in  history  the  forerunners  of  our  own  times, 
and  we  find  examples  of  the  highest  spiritual  thinkers,  and 
greatest  heroes  of  the  soul,  which  still  remain  to  us  pre 
served  in  legend  or  tradition,  to  serve  us  as  the  instructors 
and  prototypes  of  the  future. 

We  can  however  pause  at  a  station  which  marks  our  progress 
directly  from  the  lower  beginnings  of  life  to  its  highest  stages, 
and  yet  we  hardly  see  a  spiral  as  life  winds  upwards,  but  we 

learn  only  a  slight  upward  tread  .in  a  circle  so  large  that  we  can 

11 


162  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

hardly  believe  in  its  uprise.  In  a  great  climax  of  history,  or  in 
the  exceptional  power  of  a  world  hero,  we  mark  the  ages  which 
are  slowly  building  up  the  great  whole,  which  has  been  dimly 
foreseen. 

A  century  is  but  a  conventional  limit  of  time,  and  yet  its 
hundred  years  give  us  a  sufficient  space  to  indicate  a  purpose 
and  plan,  and  as  the  years  have  passed  on,  from  my  own  little 
outlook  I  seem  to  see  one  unifying  characteristic  in  the  century 
which  is  past. 

I  regard  the  tendency  of  this  century  with  great  admiration, 
because  amid  all  the  jangle  and  retrograde  movements,  there 
seems  to  me  a  real  course  of  progress,  which  distinctly  appears 
on  the  whole,  however  marred  in  details. 

It  is  the  century  of  Emancipation  long  prepared  for. 

I  will  not  try  to  record  every  movement,  but  let  me  remem 
ber  what  the  century  has  brought  to  us. 

We  received  a  precious  legacy  from  the  previous  years,  a 
mighty  hope  for  the  emancipation  of  religion.  Savonarola  and 
Luther  and  Wicliffe  and  Huss,  and  all  the  martyrs  of  France 
and  England  gave  us  the  inspiring  hope  and  faith  in  the  future 
freedom  of  religion  ;  yet  so  often  the  fires  and  the  scaffolds  were 
raised  again  and  again,  and  even  in  our  own  land,  and  almost 
in  our  own  time,  man's  thought  was  not  free  from  the  bigot's 
control.  But  we  can  see  in  this  century  at  least  a  clear  fore 
knowledge  and  certainty  of  the  emancipation  of  religion. 
Physical  tyranny  is  over,  and  thought  is  now  free  from  authori 
tative  constraint. 

Freedom  of  thought  is  won  in  the  highest  realm,  and  out  of  it 
has  come,  not  separation  and  antagonism,  but  a  wide  and  cordial 
sympathy. 

Thus  I  believe  emancipation  in  religion  is  substantially  won, 
in  spite  of  the  agonizing  throes  of  dying  superstitions  and  obso 
lete  tyrannies.  We  have  through  this  century  and  through  all 
centuries  been  working  for  this  emancipation  and  union,  and 


CONCLUSION.  163 

now  we  are  ready  to  welcome  the  word  of  the  new  century  in 
reconstruction,  or  the  building  up  of  religion  itself,  not  by  an 
eclecticism  which  breaks  down  peculiarities  and  individualities, 
but  by  a  deeper  insight  into  the  roots  of  all  natural  growths, 
which  will  find  in  them  the  same  truths  which  have  taken 
different  forms  in  various  minds. 

As  witness  of  this  striking  fact  is  the  new  alliance  with  the 
great  religions  of  the  East,  from  whose,  source  come  the  fountains 
of  our  later  life.  The  Hindoos  have  learned  of  Christianity,  not  as 
of  outward  allegiance  to  a  different  church,  but  as  comprehend 
ing  the  same  spirit  which  they  recognize  as  revealed  from  the 
great  central  source. 

The  sympathy  of  religions,  a  phrase  made  familiar  by  the 
happy  thought  of  Colonel  Higginson,  has  called  forth  a  general 
response  from  many  minds  ready  for  it.  Every  religion  rests 
on  a  deep  basis  of  truth,  but  in  the  varied  experience  of  life 
error  and  falsehood  become  inevitably  mingled  with  it,  and  we 
need  constant  recurrence  to  first  principles. 

In  this  freedom  and  mutual  recognition  which  so  markedly 
indicates  the  emancipation  we  have  even  now,  we  see  a  striking 
forecast  of  the  promise  of  reconstruction  and  harmonious  union 
of  different  faiths,  which  is  the  desire  of  the  incoming  century. 
The  eager  reception  of  the  Eastern  religions  by  Western  scholars, 
and  even  by  receptive  and  intelligent  laymen,  is  a  marked 
feature  of  our  own  times.  The  studies  by  Air.  Janes  in  his 
conferences,  and  by  the  school  at  Greenacre,  show  a  real  hospi 
tality  to,  and  earnest  interest  in  other  faiths.  Whether  there 
will  arise  a  more  active  combat  before  the  final  reunion,  I  can 
not  say,  but  let  us  rejoice  in  the  ultimate  prospect,  and  be  sure 
that  if  a  conflict  is  to  come,  it  will  be  in  the  interest  of  truth 
and  reconciliation. 

I  like  to  speak  of  Mozoomdar  as  a  genuine  forerunner  of  the 
deeper  religion,  the  prophet  who  comes  to  the  Christian  Church 
not  with  outward  acceptance,  but  with  the  deep  spirituality  of 


164  REMINISCENCES    OF   EDXAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

the  Hindoo,  and  with  the  reverent  tenderness  of  his  love  for 
Jesus.  And  when  I  heard  him  in  the  Orthodox  church  in  Hart 
ford,  where  the  pastor  at  his  side  was  melted  into  tears,  as  he 
listened  to  the  Hindoo,  speaking  of  Jesus  as  the  greatest  and 
beloved  Son  of  man,  I  felt  that  the  emancipation  was  already 
prepared  and  the  union  at  hand. 

This  freedom,  this  union  will  come  by  no  shallow  thought  or 
excited  emotion  ;  long,  painful  struggles,  hard,  earnest  work  will 
have  to  be  borne  before  the  new  ground  is  fully  conquered.  This 
has  been  the  joy  of  the  new  day.  And  I  am  grateful  that  I 
have  lived  in  my  century  which  has  been  the  birthplace  of  a 
new  life  in  the  great  stream  of  progress  which  has  been  flowing 
on  from  the  dawn  of  time. 

In  the  Branio  Somaj  we  welcomed  a  society  as  free  as  we  can 
imagine  on  our  own  shores,  and  yet  in  harmony  with  the  best 
Christian  thought. 

Closely  allied  to  the  great  emancipation  of  this  age  is  the 
freedom  of  science,  the  opening  eyes  of  matter. 

Science  is  emancipated  from  its  thraldom  to  tradition  and  un 
belief.  Many  a  religious  believer  feared  science  was  darkened 
and  wandering  in  its  own  dazzle  of  light,  and  was  ready  to 
wreck  the  fairest  hopes  of  humanity.  But  the  true  scientist  has 
not  faltered  in  his  course,  until  now  the  light  is  streaming  from 
matter  itself,  and  mingling  with  the  wider  life  of  religion,  until 
science  has  recognized  spirit  and  matter  once  more  united  in  a 
fruitful  union,  and  we  recognize  the  offspring  as  "  Good." 

The  spiritual  imagination  will  prophesy  of  the  meaning  of  the 
universe,  while  calm  reason  slowly  and  surely  builds  up  by 
gradual  steps  to  the  same  great  heights. 

As  the  great  philosophers  of  antiquity  dimly  shadowed  forth 
the  principles  of  Evolution,  so  the  physical  laws  of  continuity 
and  preservation  reach  up  to  the  spiritual  meaning  of  all  life, 
and  we  find  that  the  resurrection  comes  not  from  a  dying  Saviour 
alone,  but  is  the  whole  process  and  consummation  of  the  life  of 


CONCLUSION.  165 

humanity,  as  the  final  fruit  of  the  long  series  of  birth,  death,  and 
reproduction. 

And  to  come  to  more  immediate  good  for  humanity,  I  believe 
that  the  nineteenth  century,  with  its  legacy  of  freedom  from  the 
terrible  revolutions  of  the  last  period,  is  a  grand  prophecy  of  the 
emancipation  of  peace. 

Peace  is  not  only  a  negative  rest,  but  a  harmonious  union. 
We  find  a  prophetic  feeling  over  the  whole  earth,  —  a  faith  in  an 
active  progress  of  humanity  faintly  shadowed  in  the  hope  of  a 
millennium  on  earth,  or  a  heaven  in  a  future  stage. 

There  is  evidence  in  the  century  that  the  period  of  war 
is  coining  to  an  end,  not  soon  or  easily,  but  by  its  very  vio 
lence  is  to  become  the  forerunner  of  the  living,  growing  fruitful 
peace. 

The  whole  meaning  and  blessing  of  warfare  must  be  learned 
before  there  comes  a  stable  peace ! 

The  struggle  of  nature  must  be  recognized  and  understood. 

It  is  present  in  every  department  of  the  animal  and  vegetable 
kingdom.  The  fungus  on  our  trees  and  the  blight  on  every 
flower,  the  insects  that  depredate  our  fields,  the  parasites  that 
prey  upon  the  useful  bees,  the  mischievous  mosquito  which 
brings  contagion  and  death,  the  meanest  of  all  creatures  are  yet 
most  powerful  and  engaged  in  the  closest  war.  Who  shudders 
now  at  the  approach  of  the  lion  or  the  tiger  ?  —  but  all  turn  pale 
at  the  mention  of  bacillus  or  microbe  ! 

Yet  each  is  interlinked  with  every  other,  and  some  scientists 
tell  us  that  were  the  sparrow  or  the  thrush  or  the  busy  bee 
banished  from  the  earth  the  world  would  become  a  desert. 

War  has  gone  through  all  the  ages  of  humanity,  and  it  has 
brought  forth  heroism  and  nobility. 

There  has  always  been  a  longing  and  a  prophecy  of  peace. 
Some  Buddhist  will  not  violate  the  life  of  the  meanest  animal, 
the  saint  feeds  the  starving  tiger ;  Jesus  who  came  with  a  sword 
yet  preaches  a  gospel  of  peace  and  good- will  for  all  the  earth ; 


166  REMINISCENCES   OF  EDNAH  DOW   CHENEY. 

modern  Quakers  have  tried  to  build  a  nation  of  peace  amid  wild 
savages. 

But  can  we  say  that  this  past  century  will  promise  the  begin 
ning  of  an  era  of  peace  ?  Shall  the  lion  and  lamb  lie  down 
together,  and  we  learn  no  more  of  war  in  all  the  holy  moun 
tain  ?  In  these  very  last  days  of  the  century  have  we  not 
known  the  cruel  wars  of  Spain  and  Cuba ;  the  terrible  contests 
with  the  Philippines  and  the  Boers  ;  the  desolating  massacres 
of  China,  and  the  agonies  of  Armenia  ?  In  every  little  country 
the  same  struggles  are  repeated,  until  we  feel  that  we  are  still 
forever  to  go  over  the  dismal  story. 

More  especially  terrible  because  in  the  very  midst  of  our  own 
life  have  we  passed  through  the  most  fearful  of  all,  the  great 
Civil  War  which  is  still  echoing  through  the  land,  while  many 
believe  that  all  has  been  in  vain.  But  it  requires  but  little 
observation  to  recognize  the  blessing  which  has  come  from  these 
struggles,  and  it  is  in  the  very  violent  bitterness  of  the  old  prej 
udice  which  rages  against  the  rising  and  successful  race,  that 
we  see  the  sure  power  which  secures  for  the  negro  the  honor 
able  citizenship  of  America.  And  I  believe  that  it  is  by  the 
thorough  union  of  these  races,  and  of  other  races,  that  American 
citizenship  will  become  welded  into  a  higher  country  and  a 
nobler  manhood.  By  every  tie  they  must  be  blended  into  union  ; 
an  alien  people  must  ever  be  a  danger  to  the  State. 

And  with  all  the  present  horrors,  how  different  is  the  warfare 
of  this  age,  when  we  compare  it  with  the  terrible  record  of 
the  past.  Even  that  record  may  have  the  justification  of  the 
former  time,  for  we  have  the  history  of  noble  heroisms  as  well 
as  of  fiendish  atrocities,  but  now  the  nurse  and  the  teacher  are 
following  the  conquering  squadrons,  instead  of  leaving  only 
hatred  and  desolation  in  their  track. 

I  believe  that  by  the  wise  and  generous  provisions  of  the 
Northern  schools  a  better  education  is  at  the  command  of  earnest 
colored  men  at  such  places  as  Hampton  School,  or  Fiske  Uni- 


CONCLUSION.  167 

versity,  or  Kittrell,  or  Atlanta,  than  can  be  gained  by  the 
laboring  classes  of  the  whites  in  many  sections ;  and  this  fact  is 
recognized  and  used  as  a  stimulus  to  the  greatly  needed  improve 
ment  of  the  public  schools  of  the  South.  And  in  perfect 
harmony  with  this  high  education  the  noble  institution  at 
Tuskegee  is  a  monument  of  broad  freedom  on  a  basis  of  indus 
trial  progress.  From  this  foundation  of  simple,  honest,  and 
intelligent  labor  supplemented  by  the  higher  education  which 
opens  the  career  to  talent,  come  the  leaders  of  the  race  who 
already  show  themselves  in  literature,  in  professional  work,  and 
in  the  business  of  economy,  and  in  the  gradual  improvement  of 
all  the  community.  Nor  must  we  lose  sight  of  the  bravery  and 
nobility  which  have  been  conspicuous  in  war,  which  commands 
respect  when  other  merits  are  not  so  easily  appreciated. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  a  grateful  tribute  to  the  position  of  the 
oldest  college  in  America.  Not  only  does  Harvard  welcome  the 
colored  fellow-citizens  to  its  academic  privileges,  but  the  accom 
plished  president  welcomes  to  social  enjoyments,  and  as  the 
same  influences  flow  down  to  all  the  sources  of  education, 
the  result  will  not  be  wanting  in  the  whole  community.  And 
with  the  same  spirit  in  our  brave  young  president,  we  may  hope 
for  security  for  welfare,  and  progress  for  America. 

The  most  important  proof  of  the  progress  which  is  shown  on 
all  classes  of  the  people  is  in  the  number  and  quality  of  indi 
viduals  which  have  proved  their  rights  to  respect  in  every  walk 
of  life.  The  intelligent  farmer,  the  devoted  nurse,  the  skilled 
physician,  the  capable  lawyer,  the  learned  and  skilful  teacher, 
as  well  as  the  popular  author,  and  the  useful  and  honored  clergy 
man,  may  all  be  seen  in  the  ranks  of  colored  men,  not  as  single 
exceptions,  but  in  large  groups  constantly  extended ;  and  as 
surely  as  water  when  freed  will  rise  to  its  level,  will  intelligence, 
character,  and  success  rise  to  the  highest  position  in  life. 

As  the  South  rises  up  from  the  paralyzing  influences  of  slavery, 
so  the  negro  race  will  rise  with  it,  as  two  elm  trees  may  stand 


168  KEMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

apart  in  their  small  beginnings,  but  as  they  grow  up  more  per 
fectly  into  the  upper  ah*,  their  branches  blend  and  form  a 
perfect  arch. 

The  emancipation  of  women  has  specially  marked  the  nine 
teenth  century.  It  is  the  most  important  and  far-reaching 
reform  of  the  world.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  alone  the  extension 
of  suffrage  to  women,  which  is  a  partial  and  outward  mark  of 
emancipation,  but  the  far  deeper  principle  of  freedom  which 
reaches  to  heart  and  mind.  The  suffrage  movement  takes  its 
place  as  foremost  in  representing  other  claims  behind  it,  but 
even  the  anti-suffragists  make  an  important  contribution  to  the 
development  of  women. 

The  claim  of  woman  is  to  the  individual;  she  is  not  the 
counterpart  of  man,  or  the  subject  of  his  will  or  happiness, 
How  truly  the  relation  of  one  to  the  other  is  of  supreme 
importance. 

I  remember  that  Charles  K.  Whipple  claimed  the  emancipa 
tion  of  woman  as  only  second  in  importance  to  freedom  in 
religion.  It  is 'of  equal  and  correlative  importance.  Woman 
must  stand  in  immediate  relation  to  the  Universal  Being,  or  she 
cannot  have  the  moral  duty  to  serve  the  truth  and  defend  the 
right.  This  is  the  basis  of  all  freedom.  Her  own  soul  must  be 
the  highest  arbiter  and  responsibility  in  her  own  dictates  of 
duty. 

Still,  I  do  not  claim  that  the  identity  of  sexes  is  established, 
or  still  less  that  I  believe  in  the  superiority  of  woman.  There 
yet  remains  a  great  problem  to  be  solved ;  it  is  hardly  intelli 
gently  stated,  but  it  will  become  clearer  only  as  the  evident 
wrongs  are  eliminated,  and  both  sexes  will  develop  in  freedom 
and  finally  into  perfect  harmony. 

Great  minds  have  striven  in  vain  to  trace  the  radical  differ 
ences  of  sex,  and  the  resulting  natures  of  woman's  life. 

Theodore  Parker  maintained  that  "  There  is  no  sex  in 
souls,"  but  Coleridge  said,  "A  man  who  does  not  know  that 


CONCLUSION.  169 

there  is  a  sex  in  souls,  has  not  ever  seen  a  wife,  or  sister,  or 
mother." 

The  greatest  thinker  of  our  time  has  embalmed  in  sacred 
verse  the  highest  expression,  whose  meaning  has  not  been  yet 
exhausted,  when  at  the  close  of  his  life  he  wrote :  "  Das  ewig 
weiblichezieht  uus  hinan  ;  ''*  and  thus  goes  before  us  a  light 
over  the  path  of  emancipation.  The  long  and  varied  way  of 
history  has  wavered  again  and  again  from  the  highest  glorifica 
tion  to  the  lowest  depth  of  degradation. 

We  never  lose  the  deep  reverence  of  Jesus  or  the  spiritual 
worship  of  Beatrice.  Great  prophets  of  humanity  have  kept 
alive  through  the  ages  the  hopes  and  truths  of  womanhood,  that 
we  may  rejoice  in  their  practical  fruition  of  to-day. 

But  even  amid  the  promise  of  radical  and  universal  emanci 
pation  how  slow  is  the  progress  to  which  the  new  century  is 
vowed  !  How  terrible  are  the  evils  yet  to  be  surmounted  ! 

Most  fearful  of  all  is  the  wrong  against  woman,  and  the  sin 
of  man ;  which  seems  to  be  rooted  in  the  ages,  and  to-day  casts 
its  poisonous  slime  over  all  countries,  and  all  societies,  and  even 
shatters  the  sacredness  of  marriage  itself. 

I  honor  unspeakably  the  brave  "  Abolitionists,"  who  nobly 
and  persistently,  and  not  wholly  in  vain,  are  striving  against 
this  monster. 

They  inherit  the  mantle  of  the  heroes  of  anti-slavery.  I  can 
name  only  one,  but  among  the  many  heroic  and  sainted  women, 
first  of  all  J  rejoice  in  having  seen  the  beautiful  face  of 
Josephine  Butler,  who  with  her  husband  standing  faithfully 
by  her,  has  led  the  contest  against  evil,  and  has  hereafter 
consecrated  her  lonely  life  of  widowhood,  like  Saint  Ann, 
in  the  temple  of  humanity.  God  bless  her  and  all  the 
brotherhood  and  sisterhood  who  are  working  for  this  great 
redemption. 

And  greatly  must  we  rejoice  in  the  noble  stand  of  Roosevelt 
in  the  proclamation  to  the  Philippine  army.  When  the  Chris- 


170  REMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

tian  warrior  like  the  prophet  of  old,  shall  become  pure  and 
stainless,  the  curse  of  war  will  itself  pass  away. 

And  uow  there  remains  to  us  from  the  nineteenth  century 
the  great  struggle  for  freedom,  which  is  a  direct  fulfilment  of 
the  work  of  the  past  century  which  has  so  amply  redeemed 
us  from  chattel  slavery.  In  spite  of  lingering  remains  among 
savage  nations,  I  believe  that  chattel  slavery  is  forever 
abolished. 

It  is  now  not  the  simple  question  of  slavery,  of  tyranny 
and  submission,  it  is  the  problem  of  labor  and  social  economy. 
There  is  a  constant  intermingling  of  interests  and  changes  of 
persons  and  positions.  The  ancient  wrongs  reappear  in  the 
face  of  new  rights,  and  it  is  only  by  constant  education  of 
all  classes,  and  adjustment  by  good  feelings  and  right  think 
ing,  that  a  stable  condition  will  be  secured. 

I  cannot  go  into  the  discussion  of  means,  but  if  I  have  the 
prophetic  eye  of  old  age,  I  seem  to  see  that  there  is  a  clearer 
light  of  wisdom  on  both  sides,  that  will  bring  out  the  meaning 
of  union  and  reconciliation  between  the  apparently  conflicting 
interests.  If  the  strife  is  hotter,  as  it  seems  to  be  even  now, 
I  think  that  the  boiling  caldron  is  cleansing,  and  there  will 
be  a  reconstruction  of  labor,  and  a  utilization  of  capital  for  the 
benefit  of  humanity  which  will  be  begun,  at  least,  in  this 
dawning  century.  With  that  reconstruction,  what  miracles  of 
production,  and  of  economic  happiness  for  the  race  may  we 
not  believe  in  ? 

In  Goethe's  great  educational  novel,  if  we  can  call  such  a 
treasure  of  wisdom  by  that  name,  he  gives  to  the  pupils  the 
three  great  reverences. 

They  stand  us  well  in  all  situations  in  life.  First,  is  the 
respect  for  what  is  above  us.  Long  ages  have  recognized  this 
duty,  and  perhaps  it  has  needed  all  times,  and  the  many 
changing  circumstances  to  educate  humanity  into  this  recog 
nition  of  the  high  and  noble,  since  from  it  Goethe  learns  to 


CONCLUSION.  171 

prize  and  honor  the  love  of  God,  and  finds  also  the  feeling  for 
parents  and  ancestors. 

All  religious  put  the  emphasis  on  this  great  duty. 

But  Goethe  only  begins  here,  and  gives  to  his  pnpil  the 
charge  to  reverence  what  is  beneath  him,  and  with  joyful 
looks  he  greets  the  earth  and  the  common  days  of  work  and 
joy.  But  also  come  sad  days  and  many  troubles.  The  pupil 
is  not  held  long  in  this  attitude,  but  it  seems  a  hard  lesson  in 
life  to  learn  the  duty  and  reverence  to  those  beneath  us. 

We  begin  now  even  to  claim  the  emancipation  and  the  free 
dom  and  rights  for  the  range  of  animal  and  vegetable  beings, 
for  the  noble  horse,  the  faithful  dog,  the  enchanting  birds, 
the  mysterious  and  wise  bees,  and  the  myriad  of  insects  which 
gladden  and  alas  I  at  the  same  time  poison  the  air.  Do  we  not 
go  a  step  farther  and  fancy  that  the  birch  trees  laugh  with  joy 
in  the  summer  sun,  that  the  water-lily  loves  the  brooks  and 
faints  away  in  the  dry  sand,  and  all  have  a  certain  right  to 
live  ? 

The  prophetic  worship  of  various  animals,  the  sacred  cow 
of  the  Brahmin,  the  watchful  care  of  robins,  the  tender  regards 
for  domestic  animals,  the  recognition  of  a  living  soul,  and  an 
immortal  future  claimed  for  the  lower  races,  are  symptoms  of 
the  feeling  of  unity  with  the  whole  creation  which  is  dimly 
recognized  by  man. 

A  most  remarkable  instance  of  this  feeling  appears  in  a  story 
of  the  elder  Booth. 

The  great  tragedian  collected  a  large  number  of  birds,  whom 
he  had  saved  from  the  murderous  hands  of  street  boys,  and 
he  asked  a  clergyman  to  perform  a  funeral  service.  On  seeing 
the  lifeless  bodies  of  the  birds,  the  clergyman  refused  to  make 
the  prayer,  esteeming  it  as  an  insult  to  the  sacred  service.  I 
have  wondered  why,  since  Jesus  had  taught  us  that  God  cared 
for  every  sparrow,  —  why  should  not  a  prayer  be  offered  in 
remembrance  of  even  these  sacred  dead  ? 


172  KEMINISCENCES   OF   EDNAH   DOW   CHENEY. 

The  doctrine  of  Evolution  has  taught  us  that  man  is  only  at 
the  head  of  a  long  series  of  slowly  developed  beings,  and  does 
not  it  command  of  us  to  consider  our  poor  relations  or  our 
revered  progenitors  ? 

Is  there  not  a  varied  meaning  in  the  facts  of  the  present 
century,  which  I  hope  will  lead  us  into  clearer  and  kinder 
relations  of  the  whole  series  of  creation  ? 

Instead  of  passing  quickly  through  the  second  stage  of  rever 
ence  for  what  is  beneath  us,  as  Goethe  taught  his  pupils,  there 
seems  a  long  lesson  to  learn,  and  yet  we  are  to  come  in  this 
new  century  into  the  last  great  reverence  for  all  equals.  The 
pupils  finally  look  out  straight  and  boldly  to  all  the  world. 
How  much  is  implied  in  this  position  !  but  Goethe  himself 
does  not  follow  out  the  consequences. 

"  We  cannot  add  anything  farther,"  he  closes,  but  Wilhelm 
answers,  "  Es  leuchtet  mir  ein." 

But  if  we  can  corne  to  the  close  of  one  century,  and  look  so 
gratefully  and  proudly  over  the  results  of  emancipation,  cannot 
we  look  forward  with  confident  hope  for  the  greater  work  of 
reconstruction,  which  has  already  begun,  and  which  will  go  on 
through  the  ages  ? 

"  One  accent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
The  heedless  world  has  never  lost." 

How  will  the  grand  symphony  resound  in  the  days  to  come !  — 

"  I  am  no  link  of  thy  great  chain, 

But  all  my  company  is  a  weed. 
Lord,  place  me  in  thy  Consort  ;  give  me  one  strain 
To  my  poor  weed." 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


PRAYER. 

At  first  I  prayed  for  sight ; 

Could  I  but  see  the  way, 
Ho\v  gladly  would  I  walk 

To  everlasting  day. 
I  asked  the  world's  deep  law 

Before  my  eyes  to  ope, 
And  let  me  see  my  prayers  fulfilled, 

And  realized,  my  hope  ; 
But  God  was  kinder  than  my  prayer, 

And  mystery  veiled  me  everywhere. 

And  next  I  prayed  for  strength 

That  I  might  tread  the  road, 
With  firm  unfaltering  pace, 

To  heaven's  serene  abode. 
That  I  might  never  know 

A  faltering,  failing  heart ; 
But  manfully  go  on 

And  reach  the  highest  part. 
But  God  was  kinder  than  my  prayer, 

And  weakness  checked  me  everywhere. 

And  then  I  asked  for  faith  ; 

Could  I  but  trust  my  God, 
I  'd  live  in  heavenly  peace 

Though  foes  were  all  abroad. 


176  APPENDIX. 


His  light  thus  shining  round, 

No  faltering  should  I  know  ; 
And  faith  in  heaven  above 

Would  make  a  heaven  below  ; 
But  God  was  kinder  than  my  prayer, 

And  doubts  beset  me  everywhere. 

And  now  I  pray  for  love, 

Deep  love  to  God  and  man ; 
A  love  that  will  not  fail, 

However  dark  His  plan  ; 
That  sees  all  life  in  Him, 

Eejoicing  in  His  power ; 
And  faithful,  though  the  darkest  clouds 

Of  gloom  and  doubt  may  lower. 
And  God  was  kinder  than  my  prayer, 

Love  filled  and  blessed  me  everywhere. 

July  16,  1850. 

SONG. 

Spring  time  came  to  me, 

With  thee,  with  thee. 
Oh,  then  !  how  lovingly 

Came  it  to  me  ! 

Less  in  the  sunny  sky, 

Than  in  thy  eyes, 
Less  in  the  flowering  earth 

Spring  beauty  lies. 

Spring  music  's  not  the  brook 

Murmuring  along, 
But  thy  sweet  heart  of  love 

Breathing  its  song. 

Ever,  beloved,  then 

Keep  me  with  thee  ; 
So  shall  it  ever  be 

Soring  time  with  me  ! 

April  30,  1851. 


BEGGAR  AT  THE  GATE.  177 


BEGGAR  AT  THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL." 

A  beggar  at  the  gate  called  Beautiful  am  I, 
Asking  an  alms  of  Earth  and  Sea  and  Sky, 
From  night  till  morn  I  sit,  nor  ever  lose 
My  hope,  nor  aught  doth  me  refuse. 

The  Earth  brings  flowers,  in  my  lap  she  throws, 
Bathed  with  fresh  dew,  the  Cowslip  and  the  Rose, 
Wreathes  me  with  Lilies  and  the  Violet, 
Nor  e'er  her  wealth  of  beauty  hath  denied  me  yet. 

The  Sea  brings  all  her  treasures,  wreathed  foam 
And  dancing  spray  each  with  their  tribute  come  ; 
The  tinted  shell,  the  many-colored  weed, 
All  bring  their  beauty  to  supply  my  need. 

And  the  blue  sky  !  I  wake  at  early  dawn 
To  drink  the  beauty  of  the  blushing  morn. 
And  mid  the  splendor  of  the  noonday  light 
Come  cloud-like  angels  soft  to  bless  my  longing  sight. 

And  Night,  dear  Night,  to  me  her  gracious  boon, 
Of  tender  beauty  is  the  silvery  moon, 
The  bright  Aurora  and  the  shooting  star 
And  the  fixed  lights  all  glorious  still  and  far. 

And  yet  nor  morn,  nor  night,  winter  nor  dewy  spring, 

The  choicest  treasures  to  the  beggar  bring, 

But  oft  in  deeper  longing  do  I  cry 

And  beg  the  tender  glance  of  one  dear  loving  eye. 

Then  comes  a  friend  who  knows  not  what  he  brings, 
Nor  gold  nor  silver  in  my  lap  he  flings, 
But  health  and  life  are  with  his  presence  come, 
He  sees  my  need  and  takes  me  to  his  home. 

January  16,  1852. 


12 


178  APPENDIX. 


WAITING   HELP. 

The  question  was  asked,  "  To  whom  do  Free  Religionists  pray  ?  " 
The  answer  was :  "  To  whoever  they  believe  will  help  them." 

Whate'er  the  Name,  whate'er  the  Power, 
That  helped  me  in  my  bitter  hour, 

I  know  there  came  a  Strength  not  mine, 

A  Peace  not  Earthly  but  Divine. 

That  Peace,  that  Strength,  I  know  it  waits 
For  every  heart  that  opes  its  gates, 

To  let  the  Gracious  Presence  in  ; 

And  with  its  help  new  life  begin. 

So  waits  the  morning  in  the  skies, 
Until  the  sleeper  opes  his  eyes ; 

So  breaks  the  Sea  on  every  shore, 

The  sick  and  weary  to  restore. 

Each  lovely  flower,  each  busy  bee, 
Says,  "  Only  come,  I  '11  give  to  thee  ; " 
The  North  Star  waited,  aeons  back, 
To  guide  the  slave  on  Freedom's  track. 

Each  hero  soul,  each  martyr  heart, 

In  thy  deep  pain  has  born  its  part ; 
And  every  triumph  in  the  skies 
Has  helped  my  unfledged  soul  to  rise. 

The  Over-soul,  the  All,  the  Law, 
The  God  whom  mortal  eyes  ne'er  saw, 
And  yet  whose  presence  all  things  knew, 
'T  was  that  helped  me  and  will  help  you. 


I   SHALL   BE   SATISFIED.  179 


I    SHALL   BE   SATISFIED   WHEN   I   AWAKE   WITH 
THY   LIKENESS. 

"  Waken  in  Thy  likeness,"  meet  Thee  face  to  face, 
Know  the  sweet  unfoldings  of  Thy  perfect  Jove, 
All  the  wondrous  meaning  of  Thy  wisdom  trace, 
All  the  perfect  justice  of  Thine  order  prove. 

"  Waken  in  Thy  likeness,"  be  what  Thou  hast  willed, 
Know  the  sweet  communion  hearts  can  meet  in  Thee, 
All  Earth's  restless  passions,  all  its  longings  stilled, 
All  Times  blended  in  Eternity. 

"Waken  in  Thy  likeness,"  knowing  all  Thy  truth, 
Loving  all  Thy  children,  living  in  Thy  breath, 
Blossoming  forever  in  the  joy  of  Youth. 
Break  thy  peaceful  slumber,  waken  me,  0  Death  ! " 

1895. 


180  APPENDIX. 

TRANSCENDENTALISM. 
A  LECTURE. 

THE  spiritual  wave  that  passed  over  New  England  between  forty  and 
fifty  years  ago,  and  whose  pulsations  may  still  be  felt  in  the  greater 
New  England  which  is  planted  along  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  or 
on  the  margins  of  the  Great  Lakes,  and  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  was  no  spasmodic  convulsion  of  the  spiritual  life,  but  a  slight 
acceleration  of  the  never  ceasing  flow  of  intellectual  tides  constantly 
appearing  in  the  history  of  thought.  It  was  a  springtide  indeed, 
when  sun  and  moon,  the  inspiration  of  the  Infinite,  and  the  love  of 
humanity,  worked  together. 

Transcendentalism  was  no  child  of  unknown  parentage,  but  was  the 
heir  of  all  the  ages,  and  like  the  true  manna  "  had  the  taste  of  all  in 
it  ; "  the  finest  flavor  of  every  field  from  which  it  was  gathered.  Yet 
it  had  here  in  New  England  its  own  peculiar  aroma,  undoubtedly 
derived  from  the  new  soil  and  climate  in  which  it  sprang  up.  As 
plants  from  a  foreign  land  often  develop  into  fresh  richness  and 
beauty  in  a  new  field,  not  alone  because  of  the  virgin  soil  and  softer 
airs,  but  also  because  they  are  out  of  reach  of  their  old  enemies  who 
have  preyed  upon  them  heretofore,  but  have  not  yet  tracked  their  way 
across  the  ocean,  so  the  spiritual  seeds  sown  and  resown  in  the  older 
countries  had  a  freer  chance  here,  where  their  old  enemies  of  bigotry 
and  proscription,  of  tradition  arid  routine,  had  not  the  chance  to  suck 
the  nourishing  sap  out  of  their  young  shoots. 

A  remarkable  precursor  of  Transcendentalism  appeared  in  New 
England  in  the  person  of  Anne  Hutchinson,  whose  influence  upon  the 
future  intellectual  and  spiritual  growth  of  New  England,  especially 
through  its  women,  cannot  easily  be  thoroughly  weighed.  She  came 
to  Boston  in  1634  and  gathered  the  women  about  her,  to  listen  to  the 
truth  as  it  filled  her  soul.  S'he  preached  the  value  of  the  inward 
witness  of  the.  spirit  over  outward  authority,  with  a  power  and  a  beauty 
which  not  only  charmed  her  immediate  hearers,  but  exercised  a  great 
influence  over  many  of  the  best  minds  in  the  colony.  So  powerful 
was  her  thought  that  it  aroused  the  opposition  of  the  rulers,  who 
banished  her  from  the  colony.  Her  moral  fame  is  unsullied,  but  her 
history  was  tragical,  and  New  England  women  in  the  enjoyment  of. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  181 

their  own  privileges  now,  should  never  forget  what  they  owe  to  the 
first  martyr  in  Xew  England  to  freedom  of  thought  and  speech. 

In  some  degree  Transcendentalism  was  not  alone  a  fresh  expression 
of  spiritual  life,  but  was  a  protest  against  a  false  or  rather  an  extreme 
direction,  a  return  of  the  tide  which  had  ebbed  so  far  that  it  threatened 
to  leave  the  shores  dry  and  sunburned. 

I  regard  the  fifty  years  previous  to  the  time  of  which  I  am  speak 
ing,  the  period  of  the  French  Revolution,  of  Rousseau,  of  Voltaire,  of 
Thomas  Paine,  and  Dr.  Franklin,  as  the  most  important  and  beneficent 
time  in  modern  history  ;  for,  as  Theodore  Parker  said,  "  How  many 
falsehoods  by  which  man  had  been  defrauded  of  his  birthright, 
robbed,  beaten,  trampled  on,  were  extinguished  by  that  Transcendental 
French  Revolution."  This  uprising  of  life  laid  the  foundation  for 
those  grand  movements  for  the  emancipation  of  mankind  from  both 
physical  and  intellectual  slavery,  which  even  more  than  its  wonderful 
scientific  achievements  will  make  the  glory  of  the  great  century  which 
is  just  closing.  Yet  it  was  an  extreme  movement,  which  producing 
great  material  results,  did  not  always  clearly  take  due  account  of,  nor 
reveal  the  spiritual  forces  which  were  working  beneath  them. 

In  philosophy  this  was  a  time  of  materialism,  or  at  least  sensa 
tionalism,  popularly  represented  by  Locke  and  his  school,  with  their 
favorite  illustration  of  the  mind  as  a  blank  sheet  of  paper,  which  pas 
sively  received  impressions  from  without. 

The  Unitarian  movement  in  its  theological  protest  was  still  largely 
dominated  by  this  philosophy,  which  made  it  so  distasteful  to  such  men 
as  Coleridge,  who  were  more  imaginative  and  spiritual,  and  while  it 
did  a  great  good  in  clearing  both  the  intellectual  and  moral  sense,  it 
did  not  wholly  satisfy  the  cravings  of  poetic  and  emotional  natures. 
Yet  it  was  largely  out  of  this  Unitarian  movement,  which  gave  so 
much  freedom  for  thought  and  life,  that  the  apostles  of  Transcen 
dentalism  came.  Emerson,  Hedge,  D wight,  Parker,  Jones  Very. 
"\Y.  H.  C  banning,  and  others,  had  been  educated  for  the  Unitarian 
ministry,  but  had  found  more  new  wine  than  they  could  pour  into  the 
old  bottles. 

Transcendentalism  did  not  hold  the  position  of  negative  protest 
only,  but  boldly  made  the  greatest  of  affirmations,  and  announced  as 
its  basis  the  great  truth  of  religion,  the  immediate  conscious  relation 
of  the  soul  of  man  to  the  living  principle  of  the  Universe.  Mr. 
Parker,  in  his  essay  in  "The  Dial,"  states  this  very  fully. 


182  APPENDIX. 

It  declared  that  the  mind  of  man  is  not  a  mere  blank  receptacle 
of  notions  received  through  the  senses,  but  is  a  vital  force  in  which  is 
the  germ  and  potency  of  all  thought,  which  can  only  be  developed 
from  the  interior,  not  from  without.  They  declared  that  certain  ideas 
were  of  spontaneous  growth  in  the  mind,  although  I  need  not  say  that 
they  had  endless  difficulty  to  decide  exactly  what  those  ideas  are. 
You  will  see  how  readily  this  prepared  the  mind  for  acceptance  of  the 
great  scientific  truth  of  Evolution,  and  how  later  it  came  into  full 
relation  with  science.  In  spite  of  its  great  truth,  which  reappears 
again  and  again  in  every  form  of  religion,  this  doctrine,  if  held  with 
out  due  correction  and  limitation  by  reference  to  all  the  facts  of  life, 
and  pushed  to  its  ultimate  results  without  regard  to  practical  con 
siderations,  is  especially  liable  to  lead  to  extravagance  and  absurdity 
in  manners  and  life. 

It  takes  powerful  hold  on  the  imagination  and  sensibilities,  and  is 
apt  to  scorn  all  corrections  of  reason  and  experience,  and  even,  when 
seized  upon  by  impure  natures,  to  throw  away  moral  restraint,  and 
riot  in  sensual  indulgence. 

Such  a  charge  cannot  (unless  in  the  rarest  cases)  be  brought 
against  the  Transcendentalism  of  New  England,  which  was  grafted 
on  so  wholesome  a  stock  of  rigid  morality  and  sound  common-sense, 
that  it  lighted  and  warmed  the  conscience  instead  of  perverting  it. 
And  yet  I  think  we  may  find  its  aberrations  in  many  theories  of  life 
and  education  which  have  prevailed  in  our  community.  It  is  always 
easy  to  mistake  impulse  for  inspiration,  and  in  refusing  arbitrary 
restraint  to  give  the  reins  to  fancy  instead  of  reason.  The  serious 
struggle  for  humanity  in  the  person  of  the  slave,  which  so  soon  drew 
all  earnest  minds  and  true  hearts  into  its  army,  saved  the  votaries  of 
Idealism  from  becoming  lost  in  mazes  of  speculation,  or  dreams  of 
beauty.  Those  who  have  been  foremost  in  accepting  its  doctrines, 
and  applying  them  to  the  enlargement  of  thought  and  the  eleva 
tion  of  the  soul,  Emerson,  Alcott,  Parker,  W.  H.  Channing,  James 
Freeman  Clarke,  Margaret  Fuller,  E.  P.  Peabody,  etc.,  became  earnest 
workers  in  the  great  struggle  of  humanity  in  various  ways,  and  it  was 
the  same  idea,  the  supremacy  of  the  eternal  right  over  the  statutory 
law,  that  roused  the  people  against  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  and  the 
abominable  compromises  of  the  central  government,  and  paved  the 
way  for  the  heroic  uprising  of  the  war. 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  overrate  the  obligation  of  our  times  to 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  183 

the  Abolition  movement,  taken  up  as  it  was  by  Garrison  on  the  high 
ground  of  right  and  duty.  The  doctrine  of  compromises  always  finds 
ready  advocates,  and  we  must  have  the  straight  line  of  right  always 
in  mind,  however  beautifully  we  may  round  it  out  with  love  and 
grace.  Puritanism  planted  this  idea  firmly  on  New  England  soil, 
and  Abolitionism  was  its  first  fruit  after  the  sun  had  sweetened  and 
ripened  it. 

The  Transcendentalists  were  friendly  to  reform,  even  when  its  man 
ifestations  jarred  on  their  sense  of  harmony  and  beauty,  and  Heaven 
knows  that  was  often  enough.  Even  Hedge,  the  most  literary  and 
fastidious  of  their  critics,  in  writing  of  the  "  Art  of  Life,"  said :  "  On 
this  ground  I  am  disposed  to  rejoice  in  those  radical  movements 
which  are  everywhere  springing  up  in  the  discontented  spirits  and 
misguided  efforts  of  modern  reform.  Perfectionism,  Grahamism, 
Xonresistance,  and  all  the  forms  of  ultraism,  blind  and  headlong  as 
they  seem,  have  yet  meaning  which,  if  it  cannot  command  assent, 
must  at  least  preclude  contempt.  They  are  the  gropings  of  men  who 
have  waked  too  soon,  while  the  new  day  still  tarries  in  the  east." 

The  perfect  freedom  of  this  movement,  fettered  by  no  attempt  at 
organization,  and  the  variety  of  character  in  the  men  who  united  in 
it,  saved  them  from  any  extreme  of  dogmatism,  and  gave  richness 
and  fulness  to  their  expression.  Two  men,  for  instance,  more  un 
like  in  their  methods  of  study  and  thought  than  William  Henry 
Channing  and  Frederick  Hedge  could  hardly  be  met  with,  and  yet 
they  found  in  the  Transcendental  ranks  scope  for  their  own  develop 
ment,  and  help  from  each  other's  work. 

The  practical  attempts  at  association,  such  as  Brook  Farm,  clearly 
brought  out  these  differences  of  character  and  thought.  George 
Kipley,  W.  H.  Channing,  and  J.  S.  Dwight  were  very  earnest  and  full 
of  hope  in  association,  while  Emerson,  Hedge,  Miss  Peabody,  and 
Miss  Fuller,  while  interested  in  a  movement  so  sincere,  always  criti 
cised  the  basis  and  methods  of  the  plan,  and  Cranch  found  ample 
subject  for  caricature  in  the  picturesque  life  of  the  members.  Mrs. 
Ripley  at  the  wash-tub,  Hawthorne  tending  his  cows,  afforded  con 
trasts  strong  enough  to  delight  the  satirist. 

It  was  impossible  for  any  company  to  hold  the  Transcendental  doc 
trines  without  greatly  valuing  Art,  which  always  represents  the  Ideal ; 
and  accordingly  we  find  the  pages  of  "  The  Dial,"  the  organ  for  four 
years  of  these  thinkers,  filled  with  the  deepest  thoughts  on  Art.  The 


184  APPENDIX. 

opportunities  for  the  study  of  Art  were  very  small,  but  we  had  a  great 
living  genius  among  us  whom  (whatever  criticisms  they  may  feel 
obliged  to  make  of  his  actual  achievements)  all  must  recognize  as 
working  in  the  spirit  of  the  highest  Art.  Allston  did  not  fully  belong 
to  the  company  of  Transcendentalists,  for  the  old  traditions  of  the 
church  clung  closely  about  him,  and  there  was  an  aristocratic  flavor 
in  his  feelings  and  manners;  but  still  in  his  thought  and  philosophy 
he  was  very  closely  in  sympathy  with  them,  for  his  art  was  entirely 
ideal,  as  free  from  realism  as  that  of  any  true  lover  of  nature  could 
be.  He  was  the  favorite  artist  of  Boston,  and  in  "  The  Dial  "  we  find 
more  than  one  poem  addressed  to  him  and  his  pictures. 

But  this  company  was  not  a  mutual  admiration  society,  but  held 
closer  to  truth  than  to  each  other.  Margaret  Fuller  wrote  a  very  dis 
criminating  criticism  of  Allston 's  novel,  "  Monaldi,"  in  which,  while 
she  did  full  justice  to  its  great  beauties,  she  pointed  out  its  defects  as 
a  true  picture  of  character.  The  same  frank  criticism  was  applied  to 
his  pictures.  Although  Margaret  Fuller's  study  of  Art  was  then  con 
fined  to  a  narrow  range,  yet  after  forty  years  I  still  find  her  criticisms 
extremely  just  and  broad.  She  may  overrate  the  comparative  value 
of  her  subject,  since  it  is  the  best  she  has  ever  seen,  but  she  never 
fails  to  judge  it  by  high  ideal  standards  and  to  develop  the  meaning 
of  the  artist.  Her  article  on  the  Allston  Exhibition  is  very  interest 
ing,  not  only  for  its  frank  estimate  of  his  especial  work,  but  for  its 
statement  of  the  position  of  the  American  artist  at  that  time.  She 
particularly  admires  his  landscapes,  and  to  those  who  have  known 
nothing  but  the  realistic  landscape  of  later  days,  it  is  worth  while 
to  study  these  pictures  with  her  words  in  mind.  She  says :  ''From 
time  to  time  I  have  seen-  other  of  these  pictures,  and  they  have 
always  been  to  me  sweet  silvery  music,  rising  by  its  clear  tone  to  be 
heard  above  the  din  of  lifts,  long  forest  glades  glimmering  with  golden 
light,  longingly  eyed  from  the  window  of  some  crowded  drawing- 
room."  Sarah  F.  Clarke  said  of  one  of  Allston's  pictures :  "It  seemed 
to  be  the  only  gentleman  in  the  collection."  Tribute  is  also  paid  to 
the  famous  painters  and  sculptors  of  Italy  ;  but  in  those  days  they 
were  rather  known  to  us  by  the  echo  of  the  impression  they  had 
made  on  the  world,  as  we  know  of  the  poetry  of  Sappho,  than  by  any 
real  acquaintance  with  their  works. 

Remember  that  all  this  was  before  the  days  of  the  photograph, 
and  that  there  was  hardly  more  than  one  place  in  Boston  where  a  good 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  185 

engraving  could  be  purchased ;  yet  how  we  loved  and  studied  every 
thing  that  could  be  seen,  especially  the  noble  casts  from  the  Greek, 
and  Michael  Angelo's  "  Day  and  Night  "  in  the  Athenseum.  Tran 
scendentalism  is  the  philosophy  of  Ideal  Art,  which  places  no  value 
on  the  material  save  as  revealing  the  inward  life.  As  Michael  Angelo 
says,  "  Which,  since  they  image  Thee,  alone  I  love." 

It  was  a  dreary  transitional  time  in  Art,  and  the  American  group  of 
artists  studied  either  the  old  masters  in  Italy  or  the  Academic  school 
in  England. 

I  think  Michael  Angelo  was  the  great  source  of  artistic  inspiration 
and  worship  to  the  Transcendentalists.  He  is  more  often  referred  to 
than  any  other  modern  artist,  while  they  still  cling  loyally  to  the 
Greek  sculpture. 

They  hardly  recognized  the  new  era  in  Art  which  was  already  open 
ing,  and  which,  through  excessive  tendencies  in  the  direction  of  realism, 
was  to  bring  such  new  power  and  freedom  into  the  decadent  schools 
of  Art. 

Historical  pictures  were  the  ambition  of  the  English  school,  and 
portraiture  and  landscape  were  considered  as  far  inferior  branches, 
although  the  portraits  of  Reynolds,  and  the  landscapes  of  Gainsbor 
ough  had  won  a  lasting  appreciation  far  beyond  the  ambitious  repre 
sentations  of  heroes  and  battles  by  the  Academicians. 

The  recognition  of  the  modern  school  was  coming  through  the 
interest  in  all  the  productions  of  the  German  mind,  and  even  the 
work  of  the  dry  Diisseldorf  school  was  warmly  welcomed  in  this 
country.  The  sentiiuental  tenderness  of  Ary  Schefter  and  the  mys 
ticism  of  Overbeck  were  interesting,  and  when  the  true  apostle  of 
humanity  appeared  in  Jean  Francis  Millet,  America  was  ready 
to  welcome  him.  But  this  was  a  little  later  (in  1854)  than  the 
flowering  time  of  Transcendentalism.  Other  influences  had  mingled 
its  pollen  and  ripened  its  fruit. 

But  music  was  the  art  that  especially  appealed  to  the  spiritual  life, 
and  this  group  of  lovers  of  thought  gave  that  impulse  to  the  culture 
and  enjoyment  of  the  highest  music,  especially  German  instrumental 
music,  which  has  distinguished  Boston  ever  since. 

In  1844  Margaret  Fuller  writes,  "  Music  is  the  great  art  of  the 
time.  Its  dominion  is  constantly  widening,  its  powers  are  more 
profoundly  recognized.  In  the  forms  it  has  already  evolved,  it  is 
equal  to  representing  any  subject,  can  address  the  entire  range  of 


186  APPENDIX. 

thoughts  and  emotions.  These  forms  have  not  yet  attained  their 
completeness,  and  already  we  discern  many  others  hovering  in  the 
vast  distances  of  the  Tone  World." 

How  fully  has  the  modern  medley  of  composers  justified  this 
prediction.  Out  of  them  will  arise,  from  the  full  action  of  natural 
selection,  the  finished  art  which  will  equal  the  sculpture  of  the 
Greeks  and  the  forms  of  the  Sistine  Chapel. 

In  1840  John  S.  D wight,  in  writing  of  the  concerts  of  the  past 
winter,  ventures  to  hope  "  to  hear  one  day  the  '  Sinfonia  Eroica  '  and 
the  '  Pastorale '  of  Beethoven."  His  hope  has  been  amply  fulfilled. 
For  fifty  years,  Boston  has  listened  to  these  symphonies  with  un- 
diminished  rapture,  and  only  a  few  winters  ago  the  old  critic  was 
called  from  his  retirement  to  give  his  weekly  verdict  on  the  perform 
ances  of  the  Symphony  orchestra,  and  he  did  it  in  the  same  spirit 
of  ideal  interpretation  and  keen  hut  appreciative  criticism  that  dis 
tinguished  his  early  work. 

Beethoven's  symphonies  were  first  performed  in  Boston  about  the 
year  1844  in  the  old  Odeon,  and  while  I  have  since  heard  them  played 
by  the  noblest  orchestra  that  America  has  ever  known,  under  the  un 
equalled  leading  of  Gericke,  and  when  the  audience  was  roused  to 
keen  feeling,  by  the  imminent  departure  of  their  great  leader,  I  can 
never  believe  they  have  spoken  more  deeply  to  human  souls  than  they 
did  in  those  early  days  of  enthusiasm  when  Herwig  led,  and  John 
D  wight  and  Margaret  Fuller  listened. 

Boston,  may  I  not  say  even  America,  has  adopted  the  fifth  sym 
phony  as  the  expression  of  her  highest  faith  and  hope,  and  when  the 
greatest  day  in  her  history  dawned,  when  Emancipation  was  proclaimed 
throughout  the  land,  the  grand  tones  rang  out  with  new  meaning,  and 
our  hearts  responded  to  the  great  psean  of  faith  in  the  Eternal  Guid 
ing  Hand  which  would  bring  peace  and  progress  out  of  the  wildest 
chaos. 

Fifty  years  has  not  dulled  the  freshness  of  the  earlier  impression 
and  when  our  great  leader  returned  to  us  and  his  first  welcome  was 
in  the  old  strains,  the  whole  experience  of  life,  the  whole  power  and 
sureness  of  God  sounded  forth  as  of  old. 

Margaret  Fuller  compares  her  feeling  for  Beethoven  and  Michael 
Angelo  to  passionate  love.  I  can  see  her  just  where  she  sat  in  the  old 
theatre,  long  since  destroyed,  and  I  love  to  recall  this  anecdote 
of  her. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  187 

Some  young  people  talked  and  laughed  in  her  neighborhood, 
and  when  the  concert  was  over,  she  beckoned  to  them  and  said, 
"  I  hope  you  will  never  experience  such  annoyance  as  you  have 
this  evening  caused  to  sincere  lovers  of  music."  She  then  set  the 
keynote  to  that  respect  for  music  and  its  lovers  which  holds  the 
immense  audience  of  the  Music  Hall  at  the  symphony  concerts 
in  such  unbroken  silence. 

To  Emerson,  literature  was  the  greatest  of  all  the  fine  arts.  He 
says,  "  There  is  no  better  illustration  of  the  laws  by  which  the 
world  is  governed  than  literature." 

His  articles,  "  Thoughts  on  Modern  Literature,"  review  the  great 
writers  of  the  day  with  the  most  searching  and  critical  analysis.  Take 
for  illustration  this  sentence  regarding  Wordsworth,  and  see  how  it 
sweeps  over  the  petty  carping  criticisms  of  details  in  which  so  many 
shallow  rhymesters  then  indulged.  "  The  great  praise  of  Wordsworth 
is  that,  more  than  any  other  contemporary  bard,  he  is  pervaded  with  a 
reverence  of  somewhat  higher  than  conscious  thought.  There  is  in 
him  that  property  common  to  all  great  poets,  a  wisdom  of  humanity, 
which  is  superior  to  any  talents  that  they  may  exert.  It  is  the  wisest 
part  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton.  For  they  are  poets  by  the  free  course 
which  they  allow  to  the  informing  soul,  which  through  their  eyes  be- 
holdeth  again  and  blesseth  the  things  which  it  hath  made.  The 
soul  is  superior  to  its  knowledge,  wiser  than  any  of  its  works." 

They  recognized  that  the  index  of  new  life  in  a  nation  is  found 
in  its  upspringing  literature,  and  to-day  we  hope  and  believe  that  not 
the  colonies  alone,  but  Spain  herself  is  to  find  an  upspringing  of  new 
life,  and  we  see  proof  of  it  in  the  new  growth  in  science  and  litera 
ture  springing  up  among  her  people. 

Wordsworth  was  very  much  beloved  by  the  Transcendentalists.  His 
"  Intimations  of  Immortality  "  was  Mr.  Alcott's  favorite  text,  which  he 
often  gave  to  his  pupils  to  paraphrase. 

There  was  wider  difference  of  thought  about  Goethe,  who  did  not 
readily  yield  to  their  methods.  He  was  a  riddle  to  them,  for  they  had 
not  fully  learned  the  relation  of  idealism  to  realism.  Margaret  Fuller 
was  an  ardent  admirer  and  wrote  much  of  him,  with  her  usual  pene 
tration  and  breath.  Emerson,  although  so  strongly  in  sympathy  with 
his  disciple  Carlyle,  yet  never  felt  quite  in  harmony  with  Goethe. 
While  he  says  true  and  important  things  of  his  limitations,  I  must 
personally  find  that  the  revelations  of  fifty  years  of  study,  do  not 


188  APPENDIX. 

quite  justify  the  severity  of  his  judgment.  He  says,  "Humanity  must 
wait  for  its  physician  still  at  the  side  of  the  road,  and  confess  that 
they  have  served  it  better  who  assured  it  out  of  the  innocent  hope  of 
their  hearts  that  a  physician  will  come,  than  this  majestic  artist, 
with  all  the  treasures  of  wit,  of  science,  and  of  power  at  his 
command." 

There  was  much  ignorance  of  Goethe,  and  also  much  prejudice 
against  him,  which  arose  from  the  political  influences  of  the  time.  We 
had  fine  Germans  among  us,  who  were  full  of  the  revolutionary  spirit 
of  the  German  liberals,  and  who  saw  in  Goethe  the  very  opposite  in 
fluence,  and  did  not  recognize  the  deeper  thought  which  moved 
him. 

Theodore  Parker  was  another  of  the  leaders  of  the  Transcendental 
period,  who  was  very  much  moulded  by  the  German  influence,  but  it 
came  to  him  from  the  German  theology  and  philosophy  rather  than 
from  the  poet  Goethe,  whom  he  never  with  his  strong  Puritan  nature 
fully  accepted,  while  he  fully  adopted  the  Transcendental  philosophy. 
Conscience  and  practical  reason  were  so  strong  with  him  that 
his  course  led  him  to  active  reform  rather  than  metaphysical 
speculation. 

The  influence  of  Carlyle  must  be  noted  as  affecting  the  group  of 
Transcendentalists,  and  however  we  may  have  revolted  from  the 
later  phases  of  Carlyle's  thought,  we  must  recognize  the  great  value 
of  his  vigorous,  direct,  uncompromising  spirit  in  saving  Transcenden 
talism  from  the  dangers  of  sentiment  and  effeminacy  into  which  it 
might  have  easily  fallen. 

A  little  group  received  him  at  once.  "When  James  Freeman  Clarke 
found  his  early  papers  in  an  English  magazine  he  hastened  in  a  glow 
of  enthusiasm  to  impart  the  great  discovery  to  Emerson,  Dwight, 
Hedge,  and  the  other  kindred  souls  who  were  ready  to  blaze  into  fire 
from  this  spark.  Mr.  Charles  Eliot  Norton  tells  us  that  the  intel 
lectual  life  of  the  new  generation  had  not  found  expression.  "  The 
Unitarian  movement  had  opened  doors  and  knocked  off  shackles,  but 
the  full  light  had  not  yet  streamed  in."  Here  was  a  writer  whose 
convictions  were  based  upon  principles  and  whose  words  stood  for 
realities.  In  1833  Emerson  made  a  special  pilgrimage  to  Craigen- 
puttock,  where  Carlyle  was  living  solitary  and  almost  unrecognized. 

Frederick  Hedge,  John  S.  Dwight,  with  their  coadjutors  did  admi 
rable  service  by  their  translations  from  the  German,  which  were  often 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  189 

so  felicitous  that  they  have  been  adopted  by  the  public  as  original 
poems. 

This  Transcendental  group  never  entered  fully  into  the  great  work 
of  modern  science,  yet  the  direction  into  which  science  is  fast  leading 
its  votaries  is  wholly  in  harmony  with  the  great  truths  which  Tran 
scendentalism  held.  The  grand  doctrines  of  Evolution,  of  the  con 
servation  of  forces,  of  the  continuity  of  life,  of  the  oneness  of  all  life, 
and  the  constantly  increasing  perception  of  the  perfect  accord  of  mor 
tal  and  spiritual  truths  are  entirely  in  harmony  with  Transcendental 
ideas.  The  methods  of  work  were  very  different,  the  one  announcing 
the  intuitions  of  the  spirit,  and  disclaiming  material  observations  and 
slow  and  careful  deduction  by  logical  processes,  while  the  other  some 
times  lingered  too  long  in  the  mere  outer  processes  of  Mature  and  did 
not  find  her  hidden  meaning. 

But  as  all  roads  lead  to  Rome,  so  all  sincere  thinking  and  study  lead 
to  the  truth.  Emerson,  from  his  reverent  and  keen  perception  of  Nature, 
anticipates  the  truths  which  science  is  slowly  revealing.  He  prizes 
every  fact  as  an  expression  of  spiritual  law,  and  it  becomes  illuminated 
to  him.  He  lives  so  near  to  Nature  that  he  knows  her  secrets  like  the 
farmer  and  the  shepherd  and  the  wood-chopper.  Every  fact  in 
science  was  like  a  pearl  which  Emerson  strung  into  his  necklace  to 
adorn  his  bride,  his  beloved  Nature. 

T.  W.  Higginson  says,  "  And  now  that  much  which  Transcendental 
ism  sought  is  fulfilled,  and  that  which  was  ecstasy  has,  as  Emerson 
predicted,  become  daily  bread,  its  reminiscences  mingle  with  all 
youth's  enchantments  and  belong  to  a  period  when  we  too  'toiled, 
feasted,  despaired,  were  happy.'  " 

The  most  characteristic  of  the  Transcendentalists  was  perhaps  A. 
Bronson  Alcott,  a  man  who  could  hardly  have  been  what  he  was  any 
where  but  in  New  England,  but  who  was  no  less  the  heir  of  Greece  and 
Europe. 

Never  having  had  the  advantages  of  training  in  school  or  college 
that  Emerson  did,  he  was  more  in  danger  of  following  out  his  own 
notions  to  extremes,  and  of  attempting  to  embody  them  in  actual 
experience,  without  regarding  those  checks  and  balances  that  meet  us 
at  every  turn.  Yet  an  admirable  purity  and  health  of  nature  kept 
him  from  any  license.  He  had  a  great  deal  of  sagacity,  keen  wit,  and 
knowledge  of  character,  but  not  that  admirable  good  sense  which  is  so 
conspicuous  both  in  Emerson's  words  and  life. 


190  APPENDIX. 

Born  in  a  little  mountain  town  in  Connecticut,  he  had  as  few  out 
ward  opportunities  as  any  child  in  New  England  could  be  supposed 
to  enjoy,  and  yet  from  his  English  ancestry  he  hud  inherited  a  natural 
high  tone,  not  only  of  thought  but  of  manners,  which  might  lead  a  be 
liever  in  heredity  to  suppose  him  to  be  a  nobleman's  son  stolen  away 
in  childhood. 

"  What  manners  your  friend  has,"  said  an  English  gentleman  to 
Mr.  Sanborn. 

From  the  solemn  religious  light  which  flooded  New  England  he 
gained  his  deep  insight  into  spiritual  thought. 

You  will  find  in  Mr.  Sanborn's  excellent  biography  a  history  of  his 
life,  and  Mr.  Harris's  able  paper  on  his  philosophy  in  the  same  volume. 

Alcott  was  the  most  complete  representative  of  the  idea  of  Transcen 
dentalism  in  Education  and  labored  unselfishly  and  earnestly  all 
his  life  long  to  put  his  ideas  into  practice.  Yet,  as  must  always  be 
the  case  with  those  thinkers  who  are  not  wedded  to  a  sect  or  school,  or 
bound  down  by  old  traditions,  his  methods  and  principles  do  not 
always  seem  consistent,  and  he  cannot  be  treated  as  a  thoroughly 
typical  representative  of  what  is  vaguely  called  the  New  Education. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  his  doctrine  of  the  Fall  of  Man  in  con 
nection  with  his  theories  of  the  purity  and  almost  divine  inspiration  of 
children. 

Wordsworth's  "Ode  to  Immortality"  was  his  favorite  theme,  which 
he  frequently  gave  to  his  pupils  to  paraphrase  and  interpret.  To  him 
the  child  was  no  miserable  little  sinner  whose  will  was  to  be  broken 
to  obedience  and  whose  impulses  were  suggestions  from  his  father  the 
Devil.  "  Trailing  clouds  of  glory  did  he  come,"  and  if  his  train,  like 
others,  gathered  straws  and  sticks  and  dust  upon  the  way,  these  were 
to  be  removed  by  his  own  vital  energy,  not  by  thrashing  from  a  master. 

But  even  he  recognized  the  duality  in  the  child's  nature,  and  he 
made  great  allowance  for  temperament,  and  recognized  the  force  of  in 
herited  tendencies  which  need  direction  and  pruning  if  not  destruction. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  wished  that  we  could  have  the  frank  expression 
of  Mr.  Alcott's  pupils  as  to  the  effect  on  their  minds. 

In  some  respects  Louisa  Alcott  was  not  a  Transcendentalist,  and  she 
loved  to  mock  at  the  philosophers  of  Concord,  all  but  Emerson,  for 
whom  she  had  ever  the  deepest  reverence ;  but  the  great  doctrine  had 
moulded  her  thought  and  was  a  living  principle  in  her  soul.  She  had 
too  hard  a  struggle  with  the  bitter  realities  of  life  to  give  her  fancy 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  191 

free  play  and  she  could  not  live  in  the  serene  atmosphere  of  contem 
plation  which  seemed  possible  to  her  father  at  all  times.  Yet  she 
understood  and  reverenced  him,  and  to  her  filial  devotion  he  owed  the 
pecuniary  ease  which  made  his  old  age  comfortable  and  happy.  His 
sonnet  written  when  nearly  eighty  years  old  expresses  this  recognition. 
Her  religion  permeated  her  whole  life. 


192  APPENDIX. 


LECTURE    GIVEN    AT     THE    CONGRESS    OF  AMERICAN 
ADVANCEMENT   OF   WOMEN —NEW   ORLEANS  — 
NOVEMBER,  1895.     , 

SARAH   MARGARET   FULLER, 

(By  Marriage  MADAME  OSSOLI.) 

Born  May  23,  1810,  AT  CAMBRIDGEPORT,  MASS. 

Died  July  19,  1850. 

IT  is  thus  nearly  fifty  years  since  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  closed 
over  the  bodies  of  the  wife,  the  husband,  and  the  child,  who,  clinging 
together  in  trust  and  love,  committed  themselves  to  their  cruel  grasp  ; 
and  yet  to-day  Margaret  Fuller's  name  is  more  on  the  lips  of  her 
fellow  countrywomen,  and  her  influence  in  their  hearts,  than  that  of 
any  other  woman  of  her  own  time  and  country. 

It  is  not  that  she  stood  alone,  an  exception  to  her  sex,  for  it  was 
high  tide  in  the  intellectual  life  of  the  nation,  and  there  were  noble 
women  around  her,  not  a  few,  worthy  to  be  her  peers  in  the  love  and 
esteem  of  her  fellow-citizens. 

Elizabeth  Palmer  Peabody,  Lydia  Maria  Child,  Catherine  Sedgwick, 
Sophia  Ripley,  Eliza  Farnham,  Eliza  Lee  Follen,  and  many  more  of 
her  friends  and  fellow-workers,  deserve  to  be  remembered.  In  some 
point,  perhaps,  each  one  surpassed  her,  but  not  one  of  them  is  re 
membered  as  she  is. 

Why  is  it  that,  dying  at  the  age  of  forty,  in  the  early  maturity  of 
her  powers,  leaving  no  book  which  has  gained  general  popularity,  con 
stantly  hampered  by  ill  health  and  suffering,  not  beautiful  in  person, 
save  to  those  who  saw  the  soul  through  its  envelopment,  not  generally 
winning  in  manner,  often  satirical  and  severe,  accused  of  arrogance  and 
conceit,  cruelly  libelled  by  the  wittiest  poet  of  the  day,  she  yet 
achieved  a  personality,  and  gained  a  fame  which  has  already  lasted 
half  a  century,  and  is  still  increasing  ? 

She  is  the  woman  of  America  who  is  moulding  the  lives  and  char 
acters  of  her  countrywomen  more  than  any  other. 


MARGARET   FULLER.  193 

It  is  for  her  that  in  the  new  West  which  she  was  among  the  first  to 
understand,  the  women's  clubs  are  named,  and  both  in  the  East  and 
"West  audiences  gladly  listen  to  all  that  can  be  told  of  her,  and  seek 
eagerly  the  solution  of  the  question,  "  What  vras  it  that  gave  her  the 
mastery  over  minds  and  hearts  ] "  * 

Is  the  question  not  yet  answered  1  Xever  had  a  woman  nobler 
biographers.  James  Freeman  Clarke,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  and 
William  Henry  Channing  (trio  nobile  fratrum)  soon  after  her  death 
gathered  up  precious  memories  of  their  friend  in  a  noble  tribute  to  her 
life  and  character,  which  is  a  treasure  house,  not  only  of  facts,  but  of 
deep  insight  into  her  mind  and  heart. 

In  later  years  the  demand  for  a  more  popular  biography  was  answered 
by  Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson,  who  had  looked  up  to  her 
reverently  from  his  childhood,  whose  clear  narrative  is  enriched  by 
many  facts  from  his  personal  knowledge,  and  by  Julia  Ward  Howe, 
who,  without  the  advantage  of  much  personal  acquaintance,  yet 
entered  deeply  and  sympathetically  into  the  inner  life  of  this  rare 
woman. 

But  every  new  generation  needs  its  commentary  on  the  old,  old 
Bibles,  and  again  and  again  has  this  question  been  propounded  to  me, 
"  What  is  the  secret  of  Margaret  Fuller's  great  influence  ?"  So  I  feel 
bound  to  give  whatever  answer  I  can  as  a  sacred  duty  of  gratitude;  for 
she  planted  in  my  life  the  seeds  of  thought,  principle,  and  purpose 
which  have  grown  with  my  growth,  and  strengthened  with  my 
strength,  and  I  owe  it  to  her  to  speak  in  her  name,  and  try  to  make  her 
life  again  fruitful  in  others. 

The  ftrst  mistake  that  the  world  has  made  in  its  effort  to  compre 
hend  this  large  nature  is  in  considering  her,  not  as  a  typical  woman, 
but  as  an  exceptional  one,  whose  powers  were  masculine,  and  who 
wielded  some  magic  sword  which  she  alone  had  strength  to  grasp.  It  is 
true  that  her  nature  was  builded  on  grand  lines,  and  included  much 
of  that  large  range  of  powers  which  belong  exclusively  to  neither 
sex,  but  which  are  the  solid  basis  of  humanity.  She  herself  recog 
nizes  what  she  calls  masculine  tendencies  in  her  mind,  but  says 
elsewhere,  "but  after  all  my  character  is  still  more  feminine  than 
masculine."  Nevertheless,  with  all  the  force  of  her  intellect,  all  the 

*  An  island  near  Rock  Island  is  named  for  her,  and  Ossoli  circles  are  formed 
in  more  than  one  Western  city. 

13 


194  APPENDIX. 

strength  of  her  will,  all  her  self-denial  and  power  of  thought,  she  was 
essentially  and  thoroughly  a  woman,  and  she  won  her  victories  not  by 
borrowing  the  peculiar  weapons  of  man,  but  by  using  her  own  with 
courage  and  skill. 

She  was  wont  to  say,  "  He  that  is  more  than  man  is  less  than  man," 
and  she  would  have  said  also,  "  She  that  is  more  than  woman  is  less 
than  woman."  Whoever  does  not  find  infinite  meaning  and  power  in 
her  own  being  will  not  gain  it  by  seeking  to  override,  the  limitations, 
and  despising  the  work  that  is  rightfully  hers.  Her  nature  was  essen 
tially  Greek,  and  with  all  her  mighty  aspirations  "she  recognized  the 
god  Terminus,  and  believed  that  our  limitations  are  our  powers," 
and  that  we  can  only  transcend  them  by  accepting  and  using  them. 
"Care  is  taken  that  the  trees  grow  not  into  the  heavens,  but  it  is  well 
that  they  aspire  vigorously." 

And  yet,  who  was  so  radical  and  independent  as  she?  Who  re 
belled  against  woman's  sphere  as  laid  down  by  lawgivers  and 
preachers,  and  exclaimed,  "  Let  them  be  sea  captains  if  they  will !  " 
Who  claimed  for  them  more  earnestly  the  vote  and  the  platform  ? 

It  was  not  acceptance  of  the  outward  rule,  but  of  the  inward  law 
of  life  that  she  demanded,  and  that  law  could  only  be  found  in  free 
dom.  It  is  by  the  test  of  life  and  experience  that  we  learn  both  our 
limitations  and  our  powers.  Growth  and  life  do  not  change  essential 
qualities,  but  bring  them  to  perfection. 

You  may  easily  starve  an  oak  into  a  scrub  by  hard  conditions,  but 
if  you  place  the  willow  in  the  broadest  pastures  and  richest  soil,  where 
all  the  winds  of  heaven  may  play  freely  about  it,  it  may  grow  large 
and  strong,  but  it  will  be  evermore  and  more  a  willow,  with*  its  own 
graceful  form,  and  its  own  excuse  for  being. 

Her  whole  plea  for  woman  is  the  same  as  for  humanity,  the  indi 
vidual  right  of  freedom  and  development.  She  shall  work  out  her  life 
according  to  her  own  insight,  finding  access  to  the  infinite  soul  by 
direct  aspiration  and  reception,  without  arbitrary  constraint. 

Her  wonderful  book,  "Woman  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,"  however 
easily  criticised  on  the  score  of  method,  contains  the  pith  and  marrow 
of  the  woman  movement,  and  makes  the  largest  demand  for  her 
natural  equality  and  political  rights,  and  yet  it  brings  her  before  you 
as  pure  as  Una  herself,  claiming  that  it  is  by  her  fine  spiritual  power, 
by  her  sensitive  conscience,  by  her  open  relation  with  the  great  spirit 
of  life,  that  she  is  to  become  "the  queen  that  the  earth  waits  for." 


MARGARET   FULLER.  195 

One  reason  for  Margaret's  power  over  others  was  the  range  and  in 
tensity  of  her  own  life.  She  was  no  saint  of  impossible  perfections,  she 
was  not  one  of 

"  Those  blessed  souls,  without  reproach  or  blot, 
"Who  do  thy  will,  yet  know  it  not." 

She  was  eminently  born  to  struggle  even  more  with  her  own  nature 
than  with  circumstances  without.  But  if  she  had  an  army  of  fiends 
to  struggle  against,  she  had  mighty  angels  to  assist  her  in  the  fight,  for 
truth,  courage,  and  love  were  on  her  side. 

Her  nature  was  intense,  sensitive,  and  passionate,  and  a  hereditary 
tendency  to  self-consciousness  and  apparent  self-conceit  was  so  blended 
with  loftiness  of  soul  and  the  highest  ambition  that  she  was  con 
stantly  misunderstood  by  the  crowd  about  her,  who  saw  only  the  out 
ward  manner.  She  herself  speaks  of  "  my  arrogance  of  youthful  hope 
and  pride."  This  tendency  was  fostered  by  her  father's  recognition  of 
her  unusual  intellectual  gifts,  and  the  classic  education  which  he  gave 
her.  Without  the  wholesome  correctives  of  a  well-ordered  school, 
her  mind  was  intensely  stimulated  by  her  early  study  of  the  Greek 
and  Roman  authors,  and  her  imagination  created  a  world  of  heroic 
beings  among  whom  she  lived,  and  with  whom  she  felt  her  own  like 
ness  and  equality. 

Lydia  Maria  Child  described  to  a  friend  this  little  scene,  which 
she  herself  witnessed,  and  which  gives  a  picture  of  Margaret  as  a 
child. 

She  went  to  a  dancing-school  taught  b}r  a  lively  and  rather  irascible 
Frenchman.  In  some  way  she  offended  him  so  much  that  he  ordered 
her  to  leave  the  room.  Margaret  tossed  her  head,  and  walked  out 
with  an  air  so  commanding,  that  the  master  called  out,  "  Shtop, 
Miss  Fullair !  you  sail  not  walk  so  superb,  you  tiuk  you  General 
Wasington." 

She  seemed  indeed  like  Saul,  a  head  taller  than  all  her  brethren, 
and  while  she  was  ever  willing  to  lift  others  up  to  herself,  it  required 
long  training  to  teach  her  the  reverence  of  things  below  her. 

One  of  her  oldest  and  dearest  friends  says  of  her,  "  In  my  first  ac 
quaintance  I  was  much  offended  by  the  arrogant  manner,  as  it  seemed 
to  me?  that  she  wore,  and  wore  as  if  it  were  habitual.  It  took  time 
before  I  could  begin  to  understand  the  capacity  for  love  and  sympathy 
which  lay  hidden  under  this  unlovely  aspect." 


196  APPENDIX. 

When  a  little  child  walking  under  the  apple  trees,  her  father  pointed 
to  her  saying,  "  Incedit  regina  "  (She  walks  like  a  queen). 

W.  H.  Channing  said,  "  Her  stately  deportment  but  expressed  high- 
heartedness.'' 

She  gained  valuable  traits  of  character  from  her  father,  whom 
Colonel  Higginson  describes  as  "  conscientious,  vigorous,  well  informed 
and  public-spirited." 

Her  mother  was  of  a  very  different  type.  She  was  exquisitely 
delicate  and  refined,  conscientious  and  loving.  Her  daughter's  words 
best  describe  her  :  "  We  cannot  be  sufficiently  grateful  fof  our  mother, 
?o  fair  a  blossom  of  the  white  amaranth,  truly  to  us  a  mother  in  this, 
that  we  can  venerate  her  piety.  Our  relations  to  her  have  known  no 
jar.  Nothing  vulgar  has  sullied  them,  and  in  this  respect  life  has 
been  truly  domesticated." 

Throughout  Margaret's  private  letters  and  diaries  is  found  a  clear 
recognition  of  the  blessings  of  family  love,  and  constant  regard  for  the 
best  good  of  her  younger  brothers  and  sister.  And  yet  so  inveterate 
was  the  prejudice  against  her  that  she  was  supposed  to  look  upon  this 
cherished  mother  with  heartless  contempt,  and  was  reported  to  have 
said  "  she  was  going  to  stay  at  home  this  winter  and  educate  her 
mother." 

When  she  was  about  thirteen  she  had  a  short  experience  of  school 
life,  and  this  at  a  period  when  all  the  impulses  of  the  soul  and  heart 
were  mingled  in  chaotic  confusion.  The  impression  that  she  made 
upon  her  schoolmates  was  remarkable. 

Her  father  sent  her  for  a  time  to  the  school  of  Misses  Prescott  at 
Groton,  probably  because  he  felt  that  she  was  too  much  isolated  from 
the  companions  of  her  age. 

Here  occurred  that  singular  experience  which  she  has  told  under 
feigned  names  and  circumstances,  as  the  story  of  "  Marianna  "  in  her 
first  published  book,  "  Summer  on  the  Lakes."  Among  other  fer 
mentations  of  her  young  soul,  arose  the  passion  for  beauty,  which 
indulged  itself  in  fantastic  dress.  "  Always  some  sash  was  twisted 
about  her,  some  drapery,  something  odd  in  the  arrangement  of  her 
hair  and  dress,"  quite  contrary  to  the  ideas  of  her  methodical  precep 
tress.  Private  theatricals  afforded  a  vent  for  this  restless  spirit,  and 
in  these  she  shone  and  ruled  triumphant.  But,  unfortunately,  the 
artificial  bloom  of  the  stage  pleased  her  so  much  that  she  continued  to 
use  her  rouge  daily  after  the  theatrical  season  was  over.  This  offended 


MARGARET   FULLER.  197 

the  pupils,  and  they  laid  a  plot  to  shame  her.  Coming  down  a 
little  late  to  dinner  one  day,  when  her  heart  had  been  tuned  to 
special  sweetness  by  a  summer  morning  in  the  fields,  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  her  companions,  and  saw  that  each  one  was  deeply 
rouged  with  a  glaring  round  spot  in  either  cheek.  Every  one  had 
joined  in  the  plot.  The  teachers  strove  to  be  grave,  but  they 
enjoyed  the  joke,  and  the  servants  tittered.  It  came  near  being 
a  tragedy  that  might  have  wrecked  her  life.  She  did  not  blench, 
but  swallowing  her  dinner  with  apparent  composure,  she  made  re 
marks  to  her  neighbors  as  if  she  saw  nothing.  Her  foes  were  the 
more  enraged,  and  they  ran  off  gaily,  laughing  and  casting  satirical 
glances  at  her.  She  went  at  once  to  her  room,  locked  the  door, 
and  threw  herself  on  the  floor  in  strong  convulsions.  After  a  long 
sleep  she  arose  an  altered  being.  It  was  her  heart,  not  her  pride 
that  was  most  deeply  wounded.  "  Xot  one  of  all  who  had  seemed 
to  love  her  but  turned  against  her."  Her  outward  demeanor  be 
came  staid  and  regular,  but  she  hated  all  the  world.  I  cannot  tell 
how  literal  the  following  account  is,  but  it  must  at  least  represent 
a  deep  experience  : 

"  The  demon  of  discord  entered  into  her  soul,  and  she  fostered  all 
seeds  of  envy,  jealousy,  and  hatred  in  the  school,  until  at  last  the 
principal  brought  her  to  a  public  trial.  At  first  she  defended  herself, 
but  when  she  found  that  she  could  not  withstand  the  proofs  presented, 
she  suddenly  threw  herself  down,  dashing  her  head  with  all  her  force 
against  the  iron  hearth,  on  which  a  h're  was  burning,  and  was  taken 
up  senseless." 

Many  days  passed  in  blind  anguish,  when  one  of  her  teachers 
found  the  key  to  her  heart  by  a  revelation  of  her  own  trials  and 
sufferings.  Later  she  writes  to  this  teacher,  referring  to  these 
passages  at  school,  "  Can  I  ever  forget  that  to  your  treatment 
at  that  crisis  of  youth,  I  owe  the  true  life,  the  love  of  truth  and 
honor?" 

The  great  value  of  this  account  of  the  inward  life  is,  that  no  girl 
can  feel  that  there-  is  any  temptation,  however  sordid  and  vain,  how 
ever  deep  and  terrible,  that  this  soul  could  not  understand  and  help 
one  to  conquer. 

This  narrative,  too,  shows  how  intense  was  her  personal  affection, 
how  deep  and  strong  her  feelings.  She  had  the  womanly  power  of 
bringing  all  her  forces  into  play  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  moment, 


198  APPENDIX. 

and  to  exercise  a  control  over  the  passions  and  wills  of  others  when 
necessary.* 

Her  sleep  was  haunted  by  terrible  dreams,  the  result  of  the  evening's 
mental  excitement,  and  she  often  alarmed  the  family  by  walking  in 
her  sleep. 

The  magnetism  of  her  influence  was  felt  even  in  her  school  days. 
At  a  school  in  Cambridge,  where  she  came  only  to  recite  in  Greek, 
she  was  wont  to  walk  in  with  that  peculiar  carriage  of  the  head,  and 
half-shut  eyes,  which  characterized  her,  and  which  was  partly  due  to 
nearsightedness.  "We  thought,"  said  one  of  the  girls,  "that  if  we 
could  only  come  into  school  that  way,  we  could  know  as  much  Greek 
as  she  did." 

She  had  little  of  the  free,  careless  life  of  childhood,  which  forms 
such  a  warm  undertone  for  the  coloring  of  life.  Serious  study,  and 
deep  thought  tilled  up  her  days,  and  at  thirteen  or  fourteen  she  was 
already  a  shining  light  in  the  brilliant  society  of  Cambridge,  and  ex 
posed  to  the  intoxicating  excitement  of  social  success.  There  was  a 
fund  of  delightful  wit  and  rich  humor  in  her  that  could  not  be  re 
pressed.  It  was  said  of  her  as  a  guest,  that  she  filled  the  house  with 
life,  and  her  own  inspiration  kindled  every  other.  One  of  her  oldest 
friends  gives  her  first  recollection  of  Margaret  as  coming  unexpectedly 
into  a  children's  party,  and  at  once  becoming  the  leader  in  all  the 
plays,  and  enlivening  the  whole  circle  with  her  fun  and  spirit. 

She  knew  all  a  young  girl's  temptations,  —  the  keen  desire  for 
beauty,  the  charms  of  beautiful  dress,  the  enjoyment  of  admiration. 
She  tortured  her  hair  into  curls. 

A  lady  told  me  that  she  was  in  her  Sunday-school  class  at  Cam 
bridge,  and  that  Margaret  came  with  her  hair  done  up  in  papers, 
under  her  broad  leghorn  hat,  that  she  might  have  the  curls  fresh  and 
fair  for  going  to  church. 

I  am  afraid  that  she  suffered  from  corsets,  to  which  she  may  have 
owed  the  curved  spine  which,  together  with  the  evening  study,  made 
her  such  a  sufferer  from  nervous  headache.  She  had  a  thirst  for  love, 
and  a  longing  for  excitement  and  adventure.  Frivolities  indeed,  but 


*  A  lady  told  me  that  her  mother  was  at  Miss  Prescott's  school,  and  that  she 
said  that  Miss  Prescott  suggested  and  encouraged  the  pupils  to  play  this  trick  on 
Miss  Fuller.  She  was  the  youngest  pupil  in  the  school,  and  she  could  never  for- 
give  the  teachers  for  allowing  this  attack  on  one  whom  she  greatly  admired. 


MARGARET   FULLER.  199 

they  helped  her  to  know  the  heart  of  young  women,  and  to  guide 
them  in  many  a  difficult  path. 

Miss  Bruce,  one  of  the  young  pupils  at  Brook  Farm,  speaks  of  the 
need  which  the  girls  there  felt  of  a  motherly  friend.  "  Indeed,7'  she 
says,  "  I  know  of  no  one  but  Margaret  Fuller  who  would  have  been 
what  we  needed.  How  all-sufficient  we  should  have  found  her 
wonderfully  comprehensive  judgment  and  tenderness." 

At  a  later  period  when  living  at  Mr.  Greeley's,  she  wrote  to  this 
same  friend,  "  My  dear  Georgiana,  invite  every  peaceful  thought  that 
shows  any  willingness  to  come,  and  live  on  as  courageously  as  you 
can  for  us  who  cherish,  and  the  many  who  will  yet  need  you  —  I  can 
say  no  more  ;  this  is  all  the  consolation  I  have  been  able  to  find  for 
myself  at  certain  dark  periods  of  my  life,  yet  have  lived  after  to  beau 
tiful  moments  and  successive  daybreaks  of  glorious  light." 

Her  craving  intellect  sought  nourishment  in  every  direction,  and  the 
amount  of  her  reading  was  enormous. 

Mr.  Emerson  said  that  her  reading  at  Groton  was  at  a  rate  like 
Gibbons. 

Shakespeare,  Cervantes,  and  Moliere  were  the  friends  of  her  child 
hood,  and  at  the  age  of  fifteen  or  sixteen,  Mine,  de  Stae'l,  Epictetus, 
Milton,  Racine,  and  Gastilian  ballads  are  mentioned  as  read  by  her 
with  delight.  She  comments  in  her  diary  on  Shelley,  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  Herschel,  Wordsworth,  etc.  She  began  the  study  of 
German  in  1832,  and  in  three  months  acquired  the  command  of  the 
language,  so  that  within  the  year  she  had  read  the  most  important 
works  of  Goethe  and  Schiller,  with  the  writings  of  Tieck,  Korner, 
Richter,  and  Novalis.  Her  early  criticisms  of  these  writers,  as  given 
by  Mrs.  Howe,  are  interesting  as  showing  her  profound  appreciation 
of  Goethe  at  a  later  period.  In  learning  German  she  gave  herself  up 
entirely  to  it,  reading  no  other  language  even  in  the  newspapers. 

At  twenty-three  she  was  so  familiar  with  Dante  that  Emerson  pro 
posed  her  translating  the  "  Vita  Xuova." 

Her  love  of  German  did  not  prevent  her  studying  many  French 
authors,  of  whom  she  counted  Moliere,  Montaigne,  Rabelais,  and 
Rousseau  the  most  important,  to  which  might  be  added  many  philo 
sophic  and  historic  works. 

But  although  her  reading  was  so  varied  and  desultory,  her  mind 
was  never  swamped  by  worthless  literature.  Her  early  acquaintance 
with  the  classic  writers,  and  her  constant  intellectual  communion 


200  APPENDIX. 

with  superior  minds,  and  especially  with  men  of  scholarly  training, 
kept  her  standard  high,  and  enabled  her  to  suck  the  honey  out  of 
books  that  many  would  now  find  dry  and  uninteresting.  Her  ac 
quaintance  with  languages,  which  was  a  fresh  and  vital  one,  opened 
to  her  the  rich  storehouses  of  foreign  literature,  and  her  thoroughly 
cosmopolitan  spirit  took  the  best  from  every  nation. 

She  never  made  the  mystic's  mistake  of  despising  the  intellect. 
She  once  says,  "  I  was  careful  not  to  let  down  the  intellectual,  in 
raising  the  moral  tone  of  my  mind." 

From  how  many  tragedies  would  the  best  of  men  have  been  saved, 
if  they  had  regarded  this  precaution.  Her  sense  of  duty  braced  her 
mind,  and  reason  helped  her  conscience. 

Out  of  this  world  of  society,  teeming  with  excitement,  open  to 
inward  and  outward  temptation,  but  full  of  the  richest  opportunities 
that  America  could  afford  her,  shall  I  say  that  the  angel  of  her  life 
took  her  up,  and  placed  her  in  the  meagre  surroundings  and  quiet 
routine  of  a  little  country  town  ?  She  was  at  this  time  twenty-two 
years  of  age.  The  family  removed  to  Groton,  Mass.,  and  her  father 
wished  her  to  undertake  the  education  of  her  brothers,  promising  her 
as  a  reward  for  this  work  a  sufficient  sum  of  money  for  a  journey  to 
Europe,  the  goal  of  her  desires.  It  was  no  foolish  love  of  pleasure 
that  kindled  this  purpose.  Europe  then  was  the  fountain  head  of  all 
intellectual  life,  and  she,  who  had  so  faithfully  pursued  every  path 
that  opened  to  her,  believed  that  in  direct  contact  with  its  master 
minds  she  would  gain  the  impulse  that  she  needed  for  the  development 
of  her  own  thought,  and  the  direction  of  her  life. 

How  her  heart  sank  as  she  entered  her  new  home,  clouded  as  it  was 
with  sorrow,  from  a  terrible  accident  to  a  dear  child,  whom  she  found 
burning  with  fever. 

She  expresses  her  feelings  in  her  private  diary,  looking  at  all  the 
difficulties  frankly  as  was  her  wont,  but  recognizing  the  lesson  they 
are  to  teach.  "  What  a  weary  work  is  before  me,  ere  that  lesson  be 
fully  learned."  "  Yet,"  she  concludes,  "  will  I  try  to  keep  the  heart 
with  diligence,  nor  ever  fear  that  the  sun  has  gone  out  because  I 
shiver  in  the  cold  and  dark." 

Besides  the  five,  sometimes  eight,  hours  a  day  that  she  gave  to 
instruction  in  three  languages,  geography,  and  history,  she  was  obliged 
to  do  a  great  deal  of  plain  sewing.  This  was  a  trial,  when  the  beau 
tiful  summer  wooed  her  out  of  doors,  but  she  made  it  also  a  blessing, 


MARGARET   FULLER.  201 

for  in  these  hours  of  mechanical  labor  she  reviewed  the  intellectual 
treasures  with  which  her  mind  was  filled.  Perhaps  it  was  to  this  dull 
employment  that  she  owed  the  power  of  criticism.  Every  writer  whom 
she  studied,  as  every  person  whom  she  knew,  she  placed  in  his  own 
class,  knew  his  relation  to  other  writers,  to  the  world,  to  life,  to  nature, 
to  herself.  Much  as  they  might  delight  her,  they  never  swept  her 
away.  She  recognized  clear  distinctions,  and  saw  both  resemblances 
and  differences. 

She  was  at  times  a  little  severe  on  sewing,  which  was  then  con 
sidered  to  be  the  chief  occupation  and  duty  of  a  woman's  life.  I  once 
heard  her  say,  "  Plain  sewing  is  decidedly  immoral,"  meaning,  I  sup 
pose,  that  many  women  content  themselves  with  the  thought  of 
industry  when  stitching  wristbands  by  the  thread,  or  stroking  and 
sewing  gathers,  while  mind  and  soul  are  empty  and  unemployed.* 
Yet,  often  as  she  was  impatient  and  restless  under  this  ordeal,  she 
looked  back  upon  these  as  the  most  useful  years  of  her  life.  She 
came  to  a  better  understanding  of  her  father,  whose  practical  and 
authoritative  nature  was  very  unlike  her  own,  and  yet  who  possessed 
strong  and  valuable  qualities,  and  she  speaks  with  touching  recognition 
of  his  love  and  pride  in  her. 

Those  were  not  the  days,  and  hers,  I  think,  not  the  family  for  sen 
timental  gush  and  mutual  admiration,  but  as  is  abundantly  proved  by 
her  diaries  and  letters,  as  well  as  by  the  grateful  recollection  of  her 
family  and  friends,  she  had  Mie  most  tender  regard  for  her  mother, 
and  watched  over  her  younger  brothers  and  sister  with  wise,  constant, 
and  loving  thought,  the  only  reward  she  asked  being  that  they  might 
do  the  work  she  had  never  been  able  to  do.  I  think  that  some  of  her 
letters  to  her  brothers,  given  by  Mr.  Higginson,  are  among  the  noblest 
revelations  of  her  inward  life. 

Soon  her  devotion  to  duty  was  brought  to  a  severe  test.  She  had 
nearly  completed  the  prescribed  course  of  education  for  her  brothers, 
and  all  the  arrangements  were  made  for  the  long  promised  visit  to 
Europe.  A  delightful  party  of  friends  were  to  accompany  her,  one  of 
whom  was  Mrs.  Farrar,  whose  own  character  and  connections  would 


*  Sewing  was  at  that  time  considered  the  chief  business  of  woman's  life.  An 
old  friend  of  my  mother  asked  her  once,  "  What  is  Ednah  doing?"  "Oh,  she 
is  always  busy  ! "  answered  my  mother.  "  Why  !  I  thought  she  did  not  sew 
much  "  was  the  reply. 


202  APPENDIX. 

open  to  her  much  that  she  desired  to  see  in  Europe.  Just  as  this 
fair  prospect  (which  seemed  all  that  her  heart  desired)  opened  to 
Margaret,  her  father  died  very  suddenly  of  cholera. 

Although  up  to  this  time  his  business  affairs  seemed  to  have 
been  prosperous,  and  the  family  had  not  apparently  suffered  from 
pecuniary  difficulties,  yet  after  his  death  they  "  experienced  miserable 
perplexities  in  their  affairs,  a  disorder  of  a  house  which  has  lost  its 
head,  and  the  burdens  resting  upon  the  mother."  To  take  the 
money  from  the  estate,  as  her  family  urged  her  to  do,  and  fulfil 
her  plans,  leaving  the  others  to  struggle  on  alone,  was  not  in  her 
power,  and  she  felt  obliged,  as  she  says,  "  to  follow  a  path  for  which 
I  had  no  skill  and  no  call,  except  that  some  one  must  tread  it,  and 
none  else  was  ready." 

It  was  a  severe  struggle  to  the  young  woman.  Margaret  was  no 
sentimentalist,  who  valued  self-sacrifice  for  its  own  sake.  She  thought 
that  self-culture  was  the  duty  of  every  human  being,  but  she  also 
recognized  the  right  of  others,  and  the  law  of  duty  was  paramount  to 
her  individual  good.  In  after  years  she  told  of  her  lonely  struggles 
out  in  the  fields,  and  how  nature  calmed  her  soul,  and  strengthened 
her  to  do  the  hard  duty. 

The  bread  that  she  thus  cast  upon  the  waters  was  indeed  returned 
to  her  after  many  days.  Ten  years  later  her  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Marcus  Spring,  invited  her  to  accompany  them  to  Europe,  so  that  as 
good  Mrs.  Alcott  used  to  say,  "her  breftd  came  back  well  buttered." 
By  this  time  she  had  attained  greater  ripeness  of  her  own  powers, 
ami  established  a  literary  fame  which  made  her  welcome  among 
the  people  whom  she  most  desired  to  see. 

Her  next  great  experience  in  life  was  as  a  teacher.  This  was  not 
her  chosen  vocation,  and  while  she  did  conscientious  work,  and  always 
magnified  the  teacher's  office,  I  doubt  if  it  called  out  her  best  powers. 
She  worked  very  hard  with  German  and  Italian  classes,  reading  with 
them  parts  of  Tasso,  Petrarch,  Ariosto,  Alfieri,  and  the  whole  of  the 
Divina  Commedia.  She  also  gave  a  boy,  unable  to  use  his  eyes,  oral 
instruction  in  Latin,  English  History,  and  Shakespeare,  and  assisted 
Dr.  Channing  by  reading  to  him  from  German  authors. 

Her  first  experience  in  school  was  in  connection  with  Mr.  A. 
Bronson  Alcott.  Mr.  Alcott  says  of  her  in  his  diary,  "a  person 
given  to  the  boldest  speculation,  and  of  liberal  and  varied  acquire 
ments.  Not  wanting  in  imaginative  power,  she  has  the  rarest  good 


MARGARET   FULLER.  203 

sense  and  discretion.  The  blending  of  sentiment  and  wisdom  in  her 
is  most  remarkable,  and  her  taste  is  as  fine  as  her  prudence.  I  think 
her  the  most  brilliant  talker  of  her  day." 

She  saw  the  practical  defects  in  his  school,  but  she  bravely  defended 
him,  and  wrote  to  one  of  her  friends  whom  she  heard  was  "to  cut 
him  up,"  "  I  should  be  charmed  if  I  thought  you  were  writing  a  long, 
beautiful,  wiselike  article,  showing  the  elevated  air  and  at  the  same 
time  the  practical  defects  of  his  system." 

In  1837  she  engaged  to  teach  in  the  Green^treet  School  in 
Providence.  When  asked  what  salary  she  expected  for  teaching  she 
replied,  "  What  do  you  pay  the  governor  of  your  State  1 "  She  exer 
cised  a  great  influence  upon  many  of  her  scholars,  for  which  they 
were  profoundly  grateful  through  life,  but  she  never  felt  quite 
satisfied  with  her  work.  Probably  her  own  rich,  stimulating,  but 
somewhat  desultory  education  did  not  specially  fit  her  for  the  daily 
drill  and  practical  routine  of  a  schoolroom,  but  she  influenced  her  pupils 
by  her  high  moral  bearing.  When  any  child  asked  a  question  which 
she  was  not  prepared  to  answer,  she  never  bluffed  her,  or  said,  "  See 
what  you  can  find  out,  and  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow  if  you  are  right," 
but  she  replied,  "  I  do  not  know,  but  I  think  we  can  find  out.  We 
will  look  it  up  together." 

Her  influence  over  children  is  well  illustrated  by  an  anecdote  of  a 
little  girl,  who  had  been  accused  of  disobedience  in  touching  a  micro 
scope,  which  was  found  broken.  The  child  was  shut  up  as  a  punish 
ment,  not  for  the  fault  alone,  but  for  falsehood  in  denying  it. 
When  Miss  Fuller  came  she  took  the  weeping  child  on  her  knee,  and 
said,  "  Now,  my  dear  little  girl,  tell  me  all  about  it.  Only  remember 
that  you  must  be  careful,  for  I  shall  believe  every  word  that  you  say." 
Thus  encouraged,  the  child  told  the  innocent  story,  and  upon  investi 
gation  was  completely  acquitted.  This  reminds  me  of  an  answer 
which  I  once  heard  her  make,  in  one  of  her  conversations,  to  a 
lady  who  asked,  "  But  would  you  not  tell  a  child  that  God  does 
not  love  her  when  she  is  naughty]"  "Xo,"said  Margaret;  "it  is 
not  true." 

She  appears  to  have  taught  less  than  two  years  in  Providence, 
and  gladly  left  the  profession  to  devote  herself  more  entirely  to 
literary  work.  Her  summer  vacation,  of  only  three  weeks,  began  on 
August  19th.  As  she  had  been  rising  at  half-past  four  or  five,  and 
with  the  exception  of  two  hours  at  noon,  had  worked  or  studied 


204  APPENDIX. 

until  six  o'clock  at  night,  and  filled  up  the  evening  with  exercise 
or  calls,  we  cannot  wonder  that  she  was  weary  and  wanted  rest 
when  she  left  Providence  in  1838.  But  she  accepts  the  discipline 
and  experience  of  the  years  spent  in  teaching,  and  although  she 
wishes  for  a  different  life,  she  believes  "  that  if  duty  should  again 
call  her  to  this  work,  she  could  take  it  up,  and  produce  better  results 
both  for  herself  and  others." 

It  is  pleasant  to  me  that  her  next  home,  November,  1840,  was  at 
Jamaica  Plain,  Mass.,  and  that  in  what  was  then  a  beautiful  rural 
town  she  had  much  delightful  spiritual  communion  with  nature.  She 
came  into  the  life  of  the  flowers,  and  wrote  many  little  fancies  about 
them.  She  writes  thus  to  a  friend :  "  If  you  survive  rue,  will  you  not 
collect  my  little  flower  pieces,  even  the  insignificant  ones]  I  feel  as 
if  from  mother  I  had  received  a  connection  with  the  flowers.  She 
has  the  love,  I,  the  interpretation.  My  writings  about  them  are  no 
fancies,  but  whispers  from  themselves." 

The  wild  asters  and  the  goldenrod  uttered  their  secrets  to  her, 
and  nature's  music  is  sometimes  playing  on  her  almost  too  fully. 
She  had  hardly  "  strength  to  bear  it."  "  I  am  living  like  an  angel, 
and  I  don't  know  how  to  get  down.  Yet  they  are  waiting  all  around, 
leaning  on  the  packs  they  expect  me  to  lift.  They  look  at  me 
reverently,  affectionately.  They  are  patient,  yet  I  see  they  are 
waiting." 

It  was  a  time  of  thought  and  exaltation,  when  the  air  was  full  of 
glowing  romance.  There  is  a  touch  of  her  woman's  nature  in  one 
little  word  in  her  diary.  When  speaking  of  Goethe's  "  Farbenlehre," 
which  delighted  her  with  the  beautiful  symbolism  it  suggested,  she 
says,  "  There  was  a  time  when  one  such  fact  would  have  made  my 
day  brilliant  with  thought,  but  now  I  seek  the  Divine  rather  in  love 
than  law."  But  even  here  were  many  of  what  she  called  rye-bread 
days,  when  the  hours  were  faithfully  occupied  with  homely  details, 
letters  of  advice  to  her  brothers  about  school  matters,  and  even  in 
regard  to  their  shirt  collars,  and  lessons  of  economy  and  respect  for 
the  use  of  money. 

It  was  in  this  quiet  life  that  she  first  conceived  the  plan  of  holding 
conversations,  which  so  happily  brought  out  her  wonderful  powers, 
and  extended  her  influence  beyond  her  immediate  social  circle.  These 
conversations  were  begun  in  the  simplest  manner,  and  were  first  held 
at  the  house  of  her  faithful  friend,  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody.  They 


MARGARET  FULLER.  205 

"began  in  1839,  and  were  continued  nearly  up  to  the  time  of  her 
removal  to  New  York  in  1844.* 

I  had  the  inestimable  privilege  of  attending  her  conversations  for 
three  successive  seasons,  and  I  count  it  among  the  greatest  felicities 
of  my  life  that  I  thus  came  under  her  influence  at  a  very  early  age, 
an  influence  which  has  never  failed  me  in  all  the  years  of  my  life ; 
and  yet  I  recognize  how  vain  is  the  effort  to  give  you  any  idea  of 
"  A>7ita  Nil  ova "  which  she  opened  to  me.  Her  oldest  and  dearest 
friend  now  living  writes  me,  "  You  may  say  many  things  of  Margaret, 
but  the  personal  magnetism  is  incommunicable,  and  died  with  her." 

I  was  eager  enough  for  any  intellectual  advantage,  but  I  had  imbibed 
with  the  unthinking  eagerness  of  a  schoolgirl  the  common  prejudices 
against  Miss  Fuller,  and  although  I  believed  that  I  should  learn  from 
her,  I  had  no  idea  that  I  should  esteem,  and,  much  more,  love  her. 
I  found  myself  in  a  new  world  of  thought ;  a  flood  of  light  irradiated 
all  that  I  had  seen  in  nature,  observed  in  life,  or  read  in  books. 
Whatever  she  spoke  of  revealed  a  hidden  meaning,  and  everything 
seemed  to  be  put  into  true  relation.  Perhaps  I  could  best  express 
it  by  saying  that  I  was  no  longer  the  limitation  of  myself,  but  I  felt 
that  the  whole  wealth  of  the  universe  was  open  to  me.  It  was  this 
consciousness  of  the  illimitable  ego,  the  divinity  in  the  soul,  which 
was  so  real  to  Margaret  herself,  and  what  she  meant  in  her  great 
saying,  "  I  accept  the  universe,"  which  gave  her  that  air  of  regal 
superiority  which  was  misinterpreted  as  conceit. 

Perhaps  I  can  best  give  you  an  idea  of  what  she  was  to  me  by  an 
answer  which  I  made  to  her.  One  day  when  she  was  alone  with  me, 
and  I  feel  as  if  I  could  now  feel  her  touch  and  hear  her  voice,  she 
said,  "  Is  life  rich  to  you  ? "  and  I  replied,  "  It  is  since  I  have  known 
you."  Such  was  the  response  of  many  a  youthful  heart  to  her,  and 
herein  was  her  wonderful  influence.  She  did  not  make  us  her 
disciples,  her  blind  followers.  She  opened  the  book  of  life  and 
helped  us  to  read  it  for  ourselves.  It  was  not  the  young  alone  who 
were  fascinated  by  her  speech,  but  when  among  her  intellectual 

*  Within  a  short  distance  of  her  former  home  in  Jamaica  Plain,  a  primary- 
school  house  has  been  named  in  her  honor  by  the  school  committee.  The 
neighbors  contributed  a  handsome  United  States  flag  and  a  streamer,  so  that  the 
name  of  Margaret  Fuller  floats  over  the  spot  where  young  American  citizens  begin 
their  public  education.  May  she  lead  many  a  young  mind  to  "  the  true  life,  the 
path  of  truth  and  honor." 


206  APPENDIX. 

peers,  if  such  there  were,  all  her  powers  were  aroused,  and  ruen  of 
the  highest  culture  and  thought  would  listen  to  her  the  livelong  day, 
wrapped  in  the  music  of  her  speech. 

The  best  account  of  the  conversations  is  given  by  Mr.  Emerson  in 
the  closing  chapter  of  the  original  biography,  and  it  does  justice  to 
their  brilliancy  and  earnestness  of  thought.  It  is  mainly  taken  from 
the  accounts  of  others,  not  from  Mr.  Emerson's  own  recollections. 
Yet,  after  all,  any  attempt  to  report  her  conversations  seems  to  me 
like  sampling  the  house  by  the  bricks.  For,  as  a  lady  correspondent 
writes,  "  Just  in  proportion  to  the  importance  of  the  subject  does 
she  tax  her  mind,  and  say  what  is  most  important,  while  of  neces 
sity,  nothing  is  reported  from  her  conversations  but  her  brilliant 
sallies,  her  occasional  paradoxes  of  form,  reacting  upon  dulness  and 
folly." 

At  this  very  time  she  was  engaged  also  in  the  conduct  of  "  The 
Dial,"  that  remarkable  record  of  the  thought  and  life  of  the  epoch, 
which  has  grown  richer  and  racier  with  age,  and  is  after  fifty  years 
more  eagerly  sought  for  than  when  it  was  fresh  from  the  printer's 
hands.  As  the  zeal  of  some  of  its  first  contributors  slackened,  she 
was  obliged  often  to  write  under  severe  pressure,  and  for  one  number 
she  furnished  half  the  contents  herself. 

Margaret  Fuller's  name  is  by  many  connected  with  the  interesting 
experiment  in  association  at  West  Roxbury,  called  Brook  Farm,  but 
her  relation  to  it  was  very  slight.  She  occasionally  went  there  for 
a  few  weeks'  rest,  but  she  never  belonged  to  the  society,  nor  did  she 
fully  accept  its  ideas.  Most  unfortunately,  Hawthorne,  the  great 
romancer,  seized  upon  certain  picturesque  features  of  this  movement, 
and  the  sad  tragedy  of  Margaret's  death,  and  wove  around  them  a 
veil  of  fiction  which  is  an  utter  travesty  of  the  truth.  He  always 
disclaimed  any  intention  of  representing  Margaret  under  the  guise 
of  Zenobia,  but  the  public  obstinately  refused  to  credit  his  assertion, 
and  many  accept  the  burlesque  as  at  least  a  shadow  of  the  true 
character.  Mr.  Higginson  has  treated  this  matter  so  well  in  his 
life  of  Miss  Fuller  that  I  will  not  dwell  upon  it  here. 

I  shall  not  dwell  upon  her  literary  work,  except  to  speak  of  her 
remarkable  book,  first  published  in  "  The  Dial,"  and  afterwards 
enlarged  and  printed  with  the  title  of  "  Woman  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century,"  which  caused  a  profound  sensation  on  its  first  appearance. 
Margaret's  ideal  of  women  was  the  highest,  and  her  treatment  of  the 


MARGARET  FULLER.  207 

subject  was  so  broad  and  full  that  the  book  yet  remains  the  great 
reservoir  of  thought  on  this  subject,  and  the  most  advanced  thinkers 
find  in  it  constant  inspiration  and  suggestion. 

After  twenty  months  of  residence  in  New  York,  the  long-desired 
opportunity  came,  and  she  sailed  for  England  August  1st,  1846. 

"From  this  martyrdom  came  I  unto  peace,"  says  Dante.  Out  of 
this  intense  experience  of  thought  and  suffering,  as  well  as  of  rich 
enjoyment  and  vivid  life,  how  did  our  Margaret  attain  that  peace, 
that  sweetness,  that  depth  of  humility  and  patience  which  all  who 
knew  and  loved  her  felt  had  become  the  very  atmosphere  of  her 
being  1  It  did  not  come  unsought ;  she  strove  earnestly  towards  it. 
She  had  come  to  look  upon  patience  as  a  supreme  virtue. 

The  discipline  of  life  was  severe.  A  nature  impassioned,  exacting, 
impatient,  was  to  be  wrought  into  divine  tranquillity,  without  deserting 
its  high  standard,  or  losing  its  vigor  and  far-reaching  hope.  In  her 
short  life  she  passed  through  many  trials,  many  experiences,  but  each 
one  was  accepted  and  held  firmly  in  her  grasp,  until  she  had  sucked 
out  its  utmost  significance.  Tims  she  became  the  interpreter  and 
savior  of  women,  for  there  was  no  questioning,  no  suffering,  that  had 
not  passed  through  the  alembic  of  her  imagination  and  thought,  if 
not  of  her  actual  experience,  and  from  them  she  drew  that  "  solid  and 
sweet  wisdom  "  which  enabled  her  to  understand  women's  hearts,  and 
guide  them  through  their  difficulties.* 

The  largeness  of  her  life  and  thoughts  made  her  a  great  helper. 
"  What  can  we  despair  of  with  infinity  at  command  ?  There  is  room 
enough  in  the  universe  for  my  faults,"  she  said.  She  respected  every 
individuality  ;  "only  give  the  soul  freedom  and  room  enough  to  grow, 
and  it  will  grow  from  its  own  centre." 

"I  can  understand,"  she  says,  "each  mind  in  its  own  way,  for  I 
see  men  in  their  several  natures,  and  not  by  any  rule  taken  from  my 
own  character  and  experiences."  So  she  says  of  Tennyson,  "  He  has 
solved  his  own  problems."  She  never  imposed  her  own  beliefs  on 
others  ;  she  expressed  them  freely  and  sought  the  meaning  of  others' 
thoughts,  but  she  respected  also  her  own  individuality,  and  would  not 

*  I  have  no  wish  to  limit  her  influence  to  women.  Many  noble  men,  even  of 
those  who  have  known  her  only  through  her  writings,  recognize  her  as  a  powerful 
inspiration  and  guide  to  their  lives.  Her  friendships  with  men  were  as  deep  and 
strong  as  with  her  own  sex,  for  in  her  early  life  she  found  in  them  often  more  in- 
tellectual  sympathy  and  companionship. 


208  APPENDIX: 

submit  to  dictation.  She  said,  "  All  the  good  I  have  ever  done  has 
been  by  calling  on  every  nature  for  its  highest.  I  will  admit  that 
sometimes  I  have  been  wanting  in  gentleness,  but  never  in  tenderness 
nor  in  noble  faith." 

Her  acquaintance  with  nature,  and  her  power  of  sympathy  with  all 
life,  were  expressed  in  her  love  of  symbolism,  her  recognition  of  that 
region  in  which  spirit  and  matter  seem  to  melt  into  each  other,  winch 
led  her  to  delight  in  charms  and  amulets,  in  mysterious  intercourse 
with  other  minds,  in  omens  of  good  or  ill  to  herself,  in  revelations  of 
spiritual  help,  in  all  which  gave  her  glimpses  of  the  inner  relations  of 
the  beauty  of  the  outward  world  and  deep  eternal  truths.  As  she 
says,  "  I  would  beat  with  the  living  heart  of  the  world,  and  under 
stand  all  the  moods,  even  the  fancies  and  fantasies  of  nature."  This 
tendency  is  shown  in  her  interest  in  the  account  of  the  "  Seeress  of 
Provost7'  which  she  gives  in  "Summer  on  the  Lakes." 

With  this  depth  of  feeling,  and  vividness  of  imagination,  it  is  hard 
to  see  why  she  never  became  a  great  poet  like  Sappho  or  Elizabeth 
Barrett.  Her  thoughts  often  took  lyric  form  in  her  diary,  and  always 
seemed  a  spontaneous  expression  of  deep  feeling.  Spoken  by  her 
own  lips,  these  little  poems  were  full  of  meaning  and  beauty,  which 
clung  to  the  memory  for  years ;  but  they  won  little  attention,  even 
from  her  biographers.  That  she  valued  them  herself,  although  she 
does  not  over-estimate  their  merits,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  she 
introduced  them  into  her  books  and  conversations. 

In  Goethe  she  found  the  full  recognition  of  the  Greek  tendency  and 
the  modern  spirit,  and  if  he  was  never  her  master  he  was  always  her 
teacher  and  helper,  as  she  calls  him,  "  high-priest  of  truth,  and  best 
lover  of  man."  She  recognized  music  as  the  highest 'art,  and  in  her 
first  delight  in  the  Beethoven  symphonies  as  performed  at  the 
Academy  of  Music  in  Boston,  she  places  this  artist  above  every  other, 
even  Michael  Angelo. 

She  often  expresses  the  wish  to  write  a  romance  or  novel,  and  the 
stories  she  has  told  in  "  Summer  on  the  Lakes  "  show  her  rare  power 
of  entering  vividly  into  personalities.  Mrs.  Howe  especially  speaks  of 
her  dramatic  power  as  shown  in  her  imaginary  conversations  of  Aglau- 
ron  and  Laurie  in  "  The  Dial." 

Indeed  her  sense  of  personality  was  one  of  her  great  powers.  She 
never  touches  a  story,  however  lightly,  but  the  characters  rise  up 
vividly  before  you.  Fine  instances  of  this  occur  in  "  Summer  on  the 


MARGARET   FULLER.  209 

Lakes,"  not  only  in  Marianna,  but  in  the  sketch  of  the  noble  man 
chained  to  a  low  and  vulgar  wife. 

Her  nature  was  intuitive  and  enthusiastic,  but  balanced  by  her 
clear  perceptions  of  the  value  of  limitations,  and  guided  by  her  abso 
lute  fidelity  to  truth.  Her  truth  was  the  offspring  of  her  love  and 
trust.  To  know  what  really  is,  is  to  know  the  best  that  can  be,  and 
she  was  ready  to  accept  whatever  came  to  her  as  truth,  however  harsh 
or  difficult  it  might  seem.  She  did  not  merely  speak  the  truth,  but  it 
was  the  basis  of  her  thought  and  life. 

I  think  an  explanation  of  her  great  personal  influence  was  her  rare 
power  of  speaking  the  truth.  Her  old  friend  writes  : 

"  She  made  friends  instead  of  enemies  by  the  use  of  this  rare  faculty.  A 
young  Divinity  student  told  me,  after  he  had  become  widely  known  and 
loved,  that  walking  with  her  in  his  student  days,  he  said  to  her  in  answer 
to  friendly  inquiries  about  his  plans  and  prospects,  that  he  knew  he  should 
never  be  a  distinguished  preacher,  but  that  he  hoped  to  become  a  good  pas 
tor.  She  replied,  *  There  are  few  persons,  Mr. ,  who  can  form  so  just 

an  estimate  of  their  own  powers  as  you  have  done.'  He  said  he  was 
startled  by  such  frankness,  for  he  perceived  that  he  had  opened  the  way  for 
a  compliment,  but  was  pleased  that  he  was  complimented  by  this  speaking 
direct  truth  to  him." 

It  was  an  inestimable  privilege  to  talk  with  a  friend  of  whose 
direct  truth  you  were  so  sure. 

Her  method  of  thought  was  to  seize  the  heart  of  the  subject  and 
develop  from  within.  Nature  readily  yielded  to  her  its  spiritual 
meaning,  and  it  was  for  that  she  valued  it.  Hence,  the  old  mythol 
ogies,  especially  the  Greeks,  were  very  dear  to  her,  and  she  was 
never  weary  of  interpreting  their  meaning.  It  was  human  life  speak 
ing,  and  without  hesitation  she  recognized  its  natural  piety  under  any 
guise.  As  the  Greeks  had  read  the  meaning  of  nature,  so  nature  to 
her  interpreted  the  Greeks. 

Her  religion  was  as  broad  and  all-embracing  as  her  thought.  I  do 
not  know  the  record  of  any  spiritual  life  more  absolutely  free  from 
theological  narrowness,  and  yet  more  truly  religious. 

The  depth  of  her  life,  hor  joy  and  faith  in  living,  was  the  secret  of 
her  marvellous  power  over  others.  She  had  no  question  that  it  was 
great  to  live,  and  it  was  this  abounding  sense  of  life  that  made  her 
walk  the  earth  like  the  queen  she  was,  and  fill  every  day  with  the 
grandeur  and  fulness  of  eternity. 

14 


210  APPENDIX. 

That  in  the  impetuosity  and  impatience  of  youth  this  fulness  of 
life  rushed  in  excess  of  speech,  and  what  seemed  hauteur  of  manner, 
was  not  strange.  She  knew  it  herself.  "  You  walked  into  church," 
said  Elizabeth  Peabody  to  her,  "  as  if  you  felt  superior  to  everybody 
there."  "  Well,  I  did  feel  so,"  Margaret  replied.  And  yet  what 
depths  of  humility  were  in  her  heart,  how  truly  she  estimated  her 
own  short-comings,  how  fully  she  recognized  the  discipline  needed  to 
tune  her  soul  to  patience  and  sweetness  appears  on  almost  every  page 
of  her  diary.  If  she  felt  that  the  universe  was  her  birthright,  not  less 
did  she  feel  the  responsibility  for  every  power  given  her,  and  the 
acceptance  of  duty  was  as  firm  as  the  demand  for  life  was  full  and 
ample. 

"  She  unlearned  contempt,"  and  the  tenderness  born  of  love,  born 
of  suffering,  became  her  marked  characteristic,  and  made  her  the  con 
fidant  of  many  a  torn  and  bleeding  heart,  the  helper  of  many  a  suf 
ferer,  and  the  consoler  of  the  wounded  patriots  in  the  hospitals  of 
Italy.  Dazzled  by  the  brilliancy  of  her  intellect,  or  offended  by  the 
keenness  of  her  wit,  many  have  never  thought  of  her  in  these  rela 
tions.  It  has  been  my  hope  that  in  trying  to  present  her  image  as 
it  has  formed  itself  in  my  mind,  from  a  brief  acquaintance  in  early 
youth,  developed  by  all  that  I  have  since  known  of  her  history  and 
writing,  I  have  at  least  given  some  recognition  of  her  true  and  tender 
heart.  Poor  and  faint  as  my  sketch  is,  I  trust  it  will  lead  many  to 
the  treasure-house  of  her  life  and  thoughts,  from  which  may  be  drawn 
inexhaustible  riches ;  and  most  thankful  shall  I  be  if  I  have  given 
to  any  the  key  to  unlock  its  treasures. 

I  must  close  my  personal  recollections  with  the  end  of  her  American 
life,  after  which  she  went  on  her  way,  and  mine  earthly  eyes  saw  no 
more.  We  watched  and  waited,  believing  that  she  would  return  to  us 
enriched  by  her  new  life,  and  crowned  with  the  glory  of  fulfilled  love, 
and  happy  motherhood.  It  was  hard  to  accept  the  overthrow  of 
these  hopes. 

From  the  imperfect  records  that  have  come  to  us,  I  will  try  to  give 
you  some  idea  of  her  life  in  Italy,  and  the  fulfilment  of  her  hopes 
there. 


MARGARET  FULLER.  211 


MARGARET    FULLER    IN    ITALY    (MADAME    OSSOLl). 

I  remember  my  surprise  when  I  first  heard  her  say,  in  answer  to  a 
question  "  What  country  is  dearest  to  you  ?  "  "  Oh  !  Italy ;  "  for  as  we 
were  then  so  full  of  enthusiasm  for  Germany  and  its  literature  I  had 
supposed  she  would  choose  the  land  of  Goethe  and  Schiller. 

There  is  a  very  sharp  separation  between  her  life  in  America  and 
that  which  opened  to  her  in  Europe,  and  yet  her  studies  and  struggles 
here  had  fitted  her  for  the  fuller  life  that  opened  to  her  there. 

As  we  gather  up  the  scant  records  of  her  thoughts  and  deeds  dur 
ing  these  last  few  years,  they  seem  to  us  almost  like  revelations  of  a 
future  Ijfe,  connected  indeed  by  ties  of  love  and  memory  with  this 
life,  but  giving  us  glimpses  of  higher  and  richer  experiences  than  any 
known  before. 

Notwithstanding  her  deep  love  for  Italy,  she  never  ceased  to  be  an 
American  and  to  love  her  whole  country,  and  especially  her  "  dear 
New  England  "  as  her  native  home.  Yet  she  was  a  keen  observer, 
and  recognized  the  faults  and  dangers  that  beset  its  young  life.  It 
has  been  charged  against  her  that  she  did  not  take  an  active  part  in  the 
Anti-Slavery  movement,  nor  recognize  the  great  mission  it  was  to 
have  in  moulding  the  destinies  of  the  country.  She  did  not  indeed 
devote  herself  to  this  great  cause  with  the  singleness  of  purpose  and 
intense  zeal  of  Maria  Weston  Chapman  and  Lydia  Maria  Child.  The 
influences  about  her  early  life  were  not  of  this  character,  and  the 
movement  had  not  then  taken  the  active  form  which  it  did  after  her 
departure  from  America,  and  her  own  studies  had  been  mainly  in  the 
direction  of  literature,  art,  and  philosophy.  But  she  did  feel  warmly 
and  strongly  in  opposition  to  the  fatal  policy  of  the  Government  as 
she  saw  the  growing  encroachments  of  slavery. 

I  remember  hearing  her  speak  with  great  earnestness  of  the  threat 
ened  annexation  of  Texas  in  order  to  increase  the  power  of  the  slave 
States,  and  she  said  "  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  such  a  sinful  plan 
could  be  carried  into  effect." 

When  Margaret  Fuller  went  to  Europe,  in  1846,  no  woman  of  her 
age  in  America  could  have  been  better  prepared  not  only  to  enjoy  its 
treasures,  but  to  reap  rich  harvest  of  ripened  thought  and  knowledge 
from  its  fields.  From  her  wide  reading,  and  still  more  from  her 
power  of  deep  sympathy  and  her  recognition  of  true  life  under  all 


212  APPENDIX. 

forms,  she  was  more  absolutely  free  from  national  prejudices  than  any 
one  I  have  ever  known.  Not  like  Hazlitt  did  she  have  "no  prej 
udices,  but  hate  the  French,"  but  it  might  be  said  of  her  that  she  liked 
all  nations,  but  loved  Italy.  As  she  said,  "  Greek  and  Jew,  Italian 
and  Saxon  are  surely  but  leaves  on  one  stem  at  last."  Although  cer 
tain  faults  of  various  nations  grated  upon  her  feelings,  she  did  justice  to 
their  merits ;  but  in  spite  of  its  faults,  which  she  recognized  and 
mourned,  she  loved  Italy  as  mother  does  her  child,  with  all  her  heart. 
Even  of  Spain  she  believes  that  it  has  an  important  part  to  play. 

She  had  far  more  of  the  keen  insight,  quick  perception,  passionate 
feeling  and  deep  relation  to  the  universal  mind  of  the  great  Italians 
than  the  broad,  cool,  abstruse  thought  of  German  thinkers. 

I  shall  touch  very  lightly  on  her  experience  of  travel  before  reach 
ing  the  home  of  her  heart. 

She  left  New  York  with  her  friends  Marcus  and  Rebecca  Spring 
and  their  young  son  on  the  first  day  of  August.  How  little  did  she 
dream,  when  she  entered  upon  this  rich  life  under  such  happy 
auspices,  that  only  four  years  more  of  earthly  life  would  be  granted 
her;  and  yet  what  a  work  these  few  short  years  wrought  in  her  life 
and  character,  and  how  much  of  deep  and  also  happy  experience  was 
crowded  into  them. 

In  England  she  met  many  distinguished  and  interesting  persons  and 
notes  their  courtesy,  and  wonders  not  at  their  disgust  at  Ameiican 
manners. 

But  she  says,  "  With  all  the  abuses  of  America,  we  have  one  advan 
tage  which  outweighs  them  all.  Most  persons  reject  the  privilege,  but 
it  is  really  possible  for  one  to  grow  !  " 

She  looked  forward  to  meeting  Carlyle  with  great  interest,  but  the 
dissonance  between  these  two  natures  was  soon  manifest. 

She  was  cordially  received  in  London  and  made  many  interesting 
acquaintances,  but  prized  most  the  meeting  with  the  Italian  patriot 
Mazzini. 

Her  sketches  of  people  in  London  show  her  warm  appreciation  of 
talent.  She  speaks  hopefully  of  more  than  one  poet  whose  fame  has 
not  equalled  her  expectations,  but  she  felt  the  force  of  the  personal  in 
dividuality  even  if  artistic  merit  was  wanting. 

In  Scotland  she  had  a  remarkable  experience  in  passing  a  whole 
night  on  a  mountain,  Ben  Lomond,  alone.  She  became  separated  from 
her  companions  in  a  fog,  and  was  entirely  unable  to  find  the  path 


MARGARET   FULLER.  213 

again.  But  in  the  solemn  solitary  night  she  was  not  afraid  but  awed 
by  the  glorious  mystery  around  her.  She  speaks  very  slightly  of  her 
experience  in  her  hurried  note-book  but  says,  "  All  the  adventures  of 
the  eventful  twenty-four  hours  to  be  written  out  in  full,"  and  closes  : 
'•'  Love  Marcus  and  Rebecca  forever."  The  most  interesting  person  she 
met  in  Scotland  was  the  artist  David  Scott,  who  painted  a  portrait 
of  Emerson.  She  appreciated  his  lofty  genius  and  the  painful  limita 
tion  which  checked  its  expression. 

She  remained  in  England  and  France  until  February,  1847.  I  do 
not  find  any  very  marked  influence  from  these  six  months  of  travel. 
She  had  great  intellectual  and  social  pleasure,  and  undoubtedly 
reviewed  many  of  her  past  studies  and  opinions,  but  no  new  enthu 
siasms  seern  to  have  been  awakened. 

After  some  further  travel  in  the  Italian  cities  and  Switzerland  she 
finally  settled  herself  in  Rome  for  the  winter,  where,  as  she  said,  "  All 
mean  things  were  forgotten  in  the  joy  that  rushed  over  me  like  a  flood." 
She  then  found  the  precious  friends  whose  names  have  become 
inseparably  connected  with  hers :  "  The  Milanese  Madame  Arconati, 
Marchesa  Visconti,  and  a  Polish  lady,  the  Princess  Radzivill."  Her 
whole  sympathy  was  with  the  party  of  progress,  and  the  rapid  unroll 
ing  of  events  in.  1848  made  an  occasion  for  her.  "  Such  a  time  as  1 
have  always  dreamed  of,"  she  says.  She  saw  the  uprising  against 
Austria  —  the  Austrian  arms  burned  in  the  public  square. 

When  Mazzini  returned  from  his  seventeen  years  of  exile  she  was 
able  to  stand  by  his  side. 

She  saw  the  Republic  established  ;  she  saw  it  fall.  In  April,  1849, 
Rome  was  besieged  by  the  French  army.  Already,  however,  -even  a 
deeper  motive,  a  closer  tie,  bound  her  to  the  fortunes  of  her  beloved 
Italy. 

As  I  have  said  elsewhere,  Margaret's  nature,  though  very  strong, 
brave,  and  intellectual,  was  essentially  and  truly  womanly.  She  had  an 
earnest  craving  for  love,  and  in  her  private  journal  are  expressions  of 
her  keen,  deep  feeling  of  the  want  of  it.  She  thought  of  marriage  and 
motherhood  in  their  highest  relations,  and  yet  with  her  usual  keen 
sight  and  balanced  thought  she  tried  to  weigh  the  advantage  as  well 
as  the  loss  of  her  own  single  life.  "  Xo  one  loves  me  !  But  I  love 
many  a  good  deal,  and  see  some  way  into  their  eventual  beauty,  and  am 
myself  growing  better  and  shall  by  and  by  be  a  worthy  object  of  love.'' 
This  is  very  characteristic,  her  confidence  in  her  permanent  esseu- 


214  APPENDIX. 

tial  self  and  her  recognition  of  present  short-comings.  She  sees  that 
love  brings  its  fetters  and  she  questions  when  she  looks,  not  at  the 
ideal  but  the  actual,  if  it  be  not  a  privilege  to  be  free  from  them. 
But  "  she  hopes  not  to  be  made  partial,  cold,  or  ignorant  by  the  is 
olation."  Again  she  says  "  I  have  no  child,  and  the  woman  has  so 
craved  this  experience  that  it  has  seemed  that  the  want  of  it  must 
paralyze  me."  I  do  not  know  whether  she  was  generally  fond  of 
children,  but  to  three  of  her  friends'  children  her  heart  expanded  as  if 
they  were  her  own.  These  were :  Mr.  Emerson's  Waldo,  for  whom  he 
wrote  his  matchless  "  Threnody  ; "  the  beautiful  Hermann  Clarke,  son 
of  James  Freeman  Clarke  ;  and  Pickie  Greeley,  the  son  of  Horace 
Greeley.  And  all  these  died  in  their  blooming  childhood.  On  these 
was  concentrated  the  love  which  might  have  been  given  to  her  own 
offspring. 

She  suffered  deeply  from  any  seeming  want  of  affection  upon  the 
part  of  her  friends,  and  it  was  hard  for  her  to  accept  anything  short  of 
the  fullest  recognition. 

It  was  in  the  temple  of  St.  Peter  that  she  first  met  the  man  who 
was  to  bring  to  her  the  full  treasures  of  love.  Separated  by  chance 
from  her  companions,  she  was  lost  in  the  vastness  of  the  great  building 
and  felt  troubled  and  perplexed  for  a  moment. 

A  gentleman  spoke  to  her  and  asked  if  he  could  aid  her,  and  from 
that  time  became  a  frequent  visitor  and  valued  friend. 

The  condition  of  Italy  at  this  time  occupied  her  mind  very  fully. 
The  patriots  were  full  of  hope  and  courage  and  she  sympathized  in 
their  aims  and  aspirations.  The  young  Marquis  Ossoli  had  been 
brougot  up  under  aristocratic  influences  and  his  family  did  not  take 
the  part  of  the  patriots,  but  he  was  already  inclined  to  their  side,  and 
it  is  said  that  Margaret's  influence  had  great  power  in  determining 
his  future  course.  The  old  Marquis  Ossoli  died  during  this  winter, 
and  the  care  of  his  illness  devolved  on  his  youngest  son.  During  this 
time  he  spent  daily  a  few  moments  with  Margaret,  sure  of  her  sym 
pathy  and  gaining  strength  from  her,  and  it  was  immediately  after  his 
father's  death  that  he  disclosed  his  love  and  after  a  while  convinced 
her  that  at  least  his  happiness  depended  upon  their  union. 

I  think  it  must  have  been  nearly  two  years  after  her  marriage  when 
the  fact  became  generally  known  in  America,  and  the  utter  surprise  and 
consternation  of  her  friends  was  evident.  Of  course  those  who  had 
never  truly  known  her  or  always  disliked  her  were  quite  ready  with. 


MARGARET  FULLER.  215 

ridicule  and  blame  for  anything  so  unconventional  and  imprudent  as 
secret  marriage  and  motherhood,  while  her  true  friends  could  only  feel 
sure  that  she  would  always  be  true  to  herself  and  be  fully  justified 
when  the  whole  truth  became  known.  The  final  result  warranted 
their  confidence  in  her  truth,  generosity,  and  nobleness. 

They  were  secretly  married  in  December,  1847,  and  remained  in 
Rome  until  the  spring.  Her  letters  to  her  friends  in  America  at  this 
time  are  wholly  filled  with  the  public  conditions  in  Italy,  with  slight 
allusions  to  her  own  changed  condition.  In  May  she  went  to  Rieti,  a 
little  mountain  town,  and  here  her  child  was  born  September,  1848. 
How  hard  it  must  have  been  to  her  not  to  confide  her  new  joy  and  her 
new  anxieties  to  her  tender  mother  is  shown  in  her  letter  to  her 
mother  from  Rome,  Xo  vein  her  16  ;  but  her  fear  lest  the  knowledge  of 
her  marriage  and  motherhood  would  give  her  great  anxiety,  and  also 
the  effect  which  this  fact  might  have  upon  her  husband's  interests,  as 
he  was  engaged  in  litigation  with  his  brothers  who  were  entirely  de 
voted  to  the  old  regime  in  politics,  constrained  her  still  to  silence. 
She  writes  very  cheerfully  of  her  surroundings  at  Rome,  although  she 
speaks  of  the  terrible  excitement  in  the  city  consequent  on  the  assas 
sination  of  the  minister  Rossi. 

Of  course  the  news  of  the  marriage  was  received  so  suddenly,  and 
so  little  was  really  told,  that  the  wildest  conjectures  had  full  chance 
for  expression.  It  was  asserted  that  Ossoli  was  a  man  of  very  in 
ferior  birth,  of  no  education,  and  unequal  to  Margaret  in  every  respect, 
and,  still  more  strangely,  that  he  married  her  believing  her  to  be 
possessed  of  a  large  fortune. 

It  is  true  that  he  was  not  equal  to  her  intellectually,  either  in 
natural  gifts  or  in  acquirement.  He  was  brought  up  in  good  society 
but  mainly  educated  by  an  old  priest,  and  Margaret  herself  says,  "  Of 
all  that  is  contained  in  books  he  is  absolutely  ignorant."  From  this 
probably  arose  the  report,  which  I  have  had  to  correct,  that  he  could 
neither  read  nor  write.  Fortunately  we  have  his  own  letters  in  dis 
proof  of  this  statement.  But  he  appears,  both  from  the  testimony 
of  those  friends  of  Margaret  who  knew  him  and  from  her  own  account, 
to  have  been  one  of  those  rare,  fine,  intuitional  natures  who  know  the 
heart  of  things  better  than  things  themselves.  She  says  :  "  He  has 
excellent  practical  sense ;  has  been  a  judicious  observer  of  all  that 
passed  before  his  eyes ;  he  has  a  nice  sense  of  duty,  which  in  its 
unfailing  minute  activity,  may  put  most  enthusiasts  to  shame  ;  a  very 


216  APPENDIX. 

sweet  temper,  and  great  native  refinement..  His  love  for  me  has  been 
unswerving  and  most  tender.  I  have  never  suffered  a  pain  that  he 
could  relieve.  His  devotion  when  I  am  ill  is  to  be  compared  only 
to  yours.  His  delicacy  in  trifles,  his  sweet  domestic  graces  remind 
me  of  E.  In  him  I  have  found  a  home,  and  one  that  interferes  with 
no  tie." 

When  we  remember  how  Margaret's  keen-sighted  truth  saw  her 
friends  so  clearly,  surely  we  can  feel  satisfied  that  she  had  found  a 
true  mate  in  whom  love  made  all  things  to  fit.  Another  time  she 
said,  "  He  gives  me  all  that  even  my  exacting  heart  can  ask."  Yet, 
true  to  her  nature,  she  analyzes  and  questions  the  relations  and  the 
effect  on  her  present  and  future  life. 

Still,  she  says,  "  The  great  novelty,  the  immense  gain  to  me  is  my  re 
lation  with  my  child.  I  thought  the  mother's  heart  lived  in  me  be 
fore,  but  it  did  not ;  I  knew  nothing  about  it."  Then  she  tells  of  the 
thousand  fears  which  crowded  on  her  heart  as  she  had  pictured  the 
perils  to  which  he  might  be  exposed,  but  when  he  was  born  her  "  deep 
melancholy  changed  at  once  into  rapture." 

The  perils  of  her  motherhood  were  no  vain  dream.  The  little 
creature  born  in  the  solitary  mountain  town  was  soon  left  there  while 
his  mother  was  obliged  to  rejoin  her  husband  in  Rome  and  partake  of 
all  the  dangers  to  which  he  was  exposed,  besides  enduring  the  misery 
of  separation  from  Ijer  darling. 

On  her  labors  with  her  pen  depended  the  future  support  of  herself 
and  her  child.  She  had  already  begun  her  work  on  Italy,  and  it  was 
necessary  for  her  to  be  in  the  stream  of  the  events  then  passing  at  Rome, 
that  she  might  give  the  narration  truth  and  life.  She  writes  to 
Ossoli,  "Think  always  in  seeking  a  house  for  me  not  to  pledge  me  to 
stay  in  Rome.  It  seems  to  me  often  that  I  cannot  stay  long  without 
seeing  the  baby.  He  is  so  dear,  and  life  seems  to  me  so  uncertain,  I 
do  not  know  how  to  leave  my  dear  ones.  It  is  necessary  that  I 
should  be  in  Rome  at  least  a  month,  to  write  and  also  to  be  near  you, 
but  I  wish  to  be  free  to  return  here  if  I  feel  too  anxious  for  him,  too 
suffering.  0  love,  how  difficult  is  life  !  But  you,  you  are  good.  If 
it  were  only  possible  for  me  to  make  you  happy  !  " 

It  was  indeed  a  time  when  history  was  making  fast  in  Rome.  The 
Pope  from  whom  so  much  had  been  hoped  had  not  been  able  to  with 
stand  the  influences  of  his  cardinals,  arid  did  not  understand  the  sullej;, 
silence  of  the  people  until  his  confidence  was  rudely  broken  by  tl> 


MARGARET   FULLER.  217 

murder  of  the  minister  Rossi  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  chamber  of 
deputies,  and  soon  after  the  Pope,  imploring  the  protection  of  the  King 
of  Xaples,  fled  to  Gaeta.  The  good  time  seemed  really  come  for  Italy, 
and  the  Romans  were  quiet  and  sure  in  their  rejoicings.  Margaret 
saw  all  this  short-lived  joy,  but  she  also  saw  the  danger  ahead.  In 
this  case  she  said,  "Will  France  basely  forfeit  every  pledge  and  every 
duty,  to  say  nothing  of  her  true  interest  ?  "  During  this  time  Margaret 
twice  escaped  for  a  few  days  to  visit  her  babe  and  was  delighted  to 
see  him  well  and  plump.  She  returned  to  Rome  about  the  middle  of 
April  to  find  the  French  already  in  Italy. 

In  Rome  Margaret  again  met  Mazzini,  who  always  remained  her 
ideal  of  a  patriot  and,  as  she  says,  of  a  prince.  She  says  "  he  was  in 
appearance  more  divine  than  ever,  after  all  his  new  strange  sufferings." 

Xow  also  Margaret  found  new  employment  for  her  loving  energies. 
Her  friend  the  Countess  of  Belgioso  organized  the  hospitals  and  on 
the  30th  of  April,  1849,  she  wrote  as  follows : 

DEAR  Miss  FULLER, — You  are  named  Superintendent  of  the  Hospital 
of  the  Fate  Bene  Fratelli.  When  you  arrive  there  you  will  receive  all  the 
women  coming  for  the  wounded,  and  give  them  your  directions,  so  that 
you  are  sure  to  have  a  number  of  them  night  and  day. 

May  God  help  us  : 

CHRISTINE  TRIVULZE,  of  Belgioso. 

This  new  work  called  out  the  full  riches  of  Margaret's  loving  devo 
tion.  She  writes  to  Mr.  Emerson,  "  Since  the  30th  of  April  I  go  almost 
daily  to  the  hospitals,  and  though  I  have  suffered,  for  I  had  no  idea 
before  how  terrible  gun-shot  wounds  and  wound  fever  are,  yet  I  have 
taken  great  pleasure  in  being  with  the  men.  There  is  scarcely  one 
who  is  not  moved  by  a  noble  spirit." 

"  Xight  and  day,"  writes  Mrs.  Story,  "  Margaret  was  occupied,  and 
with  the  Princess  so  ordered  the  hospitals  that  their  conduct  was  ad 
mirable.  I  have  walked  through  the  wards  with  Margaret  and  have 
seen  how  comforting  was  her  presence  to  the  poor  suffering  men ;  and 
all  this  time  the  most  terrible  fighting  was  going  on,  and  Ossoli  was 
stationed  in  a  post  of  danger  on  the  walls  of  the  Vatican,  and  as 
the  men  were  brought  wounded  and  dying  to  the  hospitals  Mar 
garet  looked  eagerly  to  see  whether  her  husband  were  among  them. 
M  rgaret  watched  the  departure  of  the  brave  defenders  and  never  had 

•i  seen  a  sight  so  beautiful,  so  romantic,  and  so  sad." 


218  APPENDIX. 

Her  extreme  anxiety  made  her  so  ill  that  she  feared  for  her  life,  and 
she  called  Mrs.  Story  to  her  side,  and  told  her  the  story  of  her  mar 
riage  arid  motherhood,  confiding  to  her  important  papers  relating  to  her 
marriage  and  her  son's  rights  of  inheritance.  The  same  confidence 
was  reposed  on  our  minister,  Mr.  Cass,  on  the  day  when  she  proposed 
to  spend  the  night  with  Ossoli  on  the  ramparts,  where  he  was  directly 
exposed  to  the  fire  of  the  French  artillery. 

The  fate  of  Home  was  sealed,  and  the  moment  the  gates  were  open 
Margaret  flew  to  her  child  at  Rieti.  She  arrived  just  in  time  to  save 
her  boy,  who  had  been  cruelly  neglected  by  his  nurse.  He  was  "  worn 
to  a  skeleton,  too  weak  to  smile  or  lift  his  little  wasted  hand."  Four 
weeks  of  care  and  nursing  brought  his  first  returning  smile,  and  then 
came  a  season  of  blessed  quietness  for  Margaret  and  her  dear  ones.  It 
was  a  great  relief  that  the  necessity  of  concealment  of  her  marriage 
was  at  an  end  ;  and  her  friends  and  relatives  at  home  received  the 
startling  news  with  loving  sympathy,  —  her  mother  especially.  As 
Margaret  says : 

"  She  blessed  us.  She  rejoiced  that  she  should  not  die  feeling  there 
was  no  one  left  to  love  me  with  the  devotion  she  thought  I  needed. 
She  expressed  no  regret  at  our  poverty,  but  offered  her  feeble  means." 

The  following  winter  was  spent  in  Florence,  where,  though  sad  for 
the  fallen  hopes  of  Italy,  the  little  family  were  happy  in  each  other. 
Margaret's  letters  are  full  of  her  joy  in  her  child,  and  she  recalls  her 
own  childish  life  in  his.  They  speak  too  most  tenderly  of  her  hus 
band  and  her  love  of  him,  as  well  as  of  his  for  her. 

She  pursued  her  literary  studies  and  work,  especially  on  the  history 
of  Italy,  from  which  she  hoped  so  much  and  which  is  totally  lost.  Of 
this  work  she  wrote  to  her  brother,  and  hopes  to  see  the  end  of  the 
political  struggle,  which  she  thinks  will  be  within  the  year.  She  is 
confident  that  her  work,  if  she  can  accomplish  it,  will  be  a  worthy 
chapter  of  the  history  of  the  world,  a  possession  forever  for  man. 

Gladly  would  we  linger  long  over  these  last  days.  Full  of  tender 
love  and  joy  for  her  husband  and  child,  yet  with  a  heart  fondly  turned 
again  to  her  own  land  and  the  loved  ones  there,  so  that  she  says  it  is 
in  itself  a  vast  blessing  to  be  born  an  American,  with  her  intellectual 
powers  ripened  by  this  rich  experience,  and,  as  she  says,  4'my  heart 
in  some  respects  better  and  kinder  and  more  humble,"  not  yet  forty 
years  old,  what  might  not  life  offer  to  her ;  what  might  she  not  yet 
do  for  herself  and  for  us ! 


MARGARET  FULLER.  219 

Prof.  Villari  says,  "  What  was  the  American  Margaret  Fuller  in 
Boston  and  New  York  compared  with  the  poor  and  solitary  Marghe- 
rita  among  the  steep  mountains  of  Rieti,  with  the  babe  on  her  knees, 
lost  in  a  delirium  of  affection,  blest  in  the  smile  of  her  Angelo  !  "  Ah, 
she  was  the  same  Margaret  whose  nature  had  been  fed  by  every  joy 
and  sorrow  of  her  young  life,  who  was  already  living  in  '"'thousand 
lives,  in  breasts  of  lovers  true  "  whose  minds  and  hearts  she  had 
kindled  to  truth  and  love. 

To  Italy  it  was  given  to  see  her  noonday  light,  but  how  we  longed 
for  her  to  come  back  to  us  in  the  joy  and  glory  of  wifehood  and 
motherhood.  But  for  us  was  the  sudden  setting  in  clouds  and  dark 
ness.  But  for  us  is*  also  the  resurrection  and  immortality.  She  lived 
a  few  years  of  concentrated  and  blessed  though  suffering  life  in  Italy. 
But  is  she  to-day  to  Italy  what  she  is  to  our  new  life,  to  our  young 
womanhood  who  understand  and  believe  in  her,  and  are  working  for 
their  own  sex  and  humanity,  as  she  \vould  have  lived  and  worked  if 
the  full  measure  of  life  had  been  granted  her]  She  was  robbed  of 
the  last  precious  years  of  woman's  life,  when  all  the  unsatisfied  longings 
and  stormy  impulses  of  youth,  and  the  richer  joys  of  middle  life  with 
its  deep  home  companionships  and  responsibilities  for  other  lives  have 
moulded  the  mind  to  that  solid  and  sweet  wisdom  which  gives  its 
rich  fruit  to  the  coming  generation  and  sows  seed  for  all  future  time. 
It  is  for  us  to  fulfil  it  for  her. 

Before  passing  to  the  last  tragic  scenes  I  wish  to  give  you  two  anec 
dotes  which  illustrate  her  wonderful  personal  power  over  even  strangers. 

It  happened,  some  time  before  the  coming  of  the  French,  while 
Margaret  was  travelling  quite  by  herself,  that  she  rested  for  an  hour  at 
a  little  wayside  osteria.  She  was  startled  by  the  padrone,  who  with 
great  alarm  rushed  into  the  room,  and  said  :  "  We  are  quite  lost !  here 
is  the  legion  Garibaldi.  These  men  always  pillage,  and  if  we  do  not 
give  them  all  without  pay,  they  will  kill  us  !  "  Margaret  looked  and 
saw  that  the  legion  was  indeed  coming  with  all  speed.  For  a  moment 
she  felt  uncomfortable,  for  she  thought  that  they  might  take  the  horses 
and  so  leave  her  without  means  of  proceeding  on  her  journey.  On 
they  came  and  she  determined  to  give  them  a  lunch  at  her  own  ex 
pense.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  they  arrived  and  rushed  boisterously 
into  the  osteria,  she  rose  and  said  to  the  padrone,  "Give  these  good 
men  wine  and  bread  on  my  account,  for  after  their  ride  they  must  need 
refreshment."  Immediately  the  noise  and  confusion  subsided;  with 


220  APPENDIX. 

respectful  bows  to  her  they  seated  themselves  and  partook  of  the 
lunch,  giving  her  an  account  of  the  journey.  When  she  was  ready  to 
go  and  her  vettura  at  the  door,  they  -waited  upon  her,  took  clown  the 
steps,  and  assisted  her  with  much  gentleness  of  manner,  and  she  drove 
off,  wondering  how  men  with  such  natures  could  have  the  reputation 
they  had. 

On  another  occasion  two  contndini  at  Rieti  being  in  a  violent 
quarrel  had  rushed  upon  each  other  with  knives.  Margaret  was 
called  by  the  women  bystanders.  She  went  up  to  the  men,  whose 
rage  was  truly  awful  to  behold,  and  stepping  between  them  com 
manded  them  to  separate.  They  parted,  but  with  such  a  look 
of  deadly  revenge,  that  Margaret  felt  her  work  was  but  half  accom 
plished.  She  sought  them  out  separately,  and  talked  with  each, 
urging  forgiveness. 

It  was  long  before  she  could  see  any  change  of  purpose,  but  after 
repeated  conversations  she  brought  about  her  desire  and  saw  them 
meet  as  friends.  Her  reputation  as  peacemaker  was  great,  and  women 
came  to  her  with  long  tales  of  trouble,  urging  her  intervention. 

But  the  time  had  come  when  Margaret  felt  that  she  must  leave  her 
adopted  country,  with  the  heavy  cloud  still  resting  about  it,  and  return 
to  her  early  home.  Here  she  must  find  the  means  of  life  for  the  sup 
port  of  her  little  family.  It  was  with  hard  conflicts  of  feeling  that  she 
decided  upon  this  needful  step,  and  dark  forebodings  came  over  her 
anxious  heart.  She  engaged  passage  in  a  merchant  ship,  the  "  Eliza 
beth,"  praying  fervently  "  that  it  may  not  be  my  lot  to  lose  my  boy  at 
sea,  either  by  unsolaced  illness  or  by  the  howling  waves,  or  if  so,  that 
Ossoli,  Angelo,  and  I  may  go  together  and  that  the  parting  may  be 
brief." 

The  seventeenth  of  May,  the  day  of  sailing,  came,  but  even  then 
Margaret  almost  shrank  from  the  step  she  was  taking.  But  every 
thing  appeared  so  promising  that  she  crowded  back  her  presentiments 
and  went  on  board  the  fated  ship.  Alas,  her  presentiments  were  soon 
verified.  Before  they  reached  Gibraltar  the  captain  died  of  small-pox, 
and  a  few  days  after  the  little  Angelo  sickened  with  the  same  fearful 
disease.  By  the  wise  care  of  his  parents  he  recovered  fully,  however, 
and  the  ship  peacefully  pursued  her  way  until  the  shores  of  America 
were  insight.  Their  trunks  were  packed  for  the  shore,  and  with  grate 
ful,  loving  hearts  Ossoli  and  Margaret  put  their  child  to  bed  for  the 
last  time  at  sea,  as  they  thought. 


MARGARET   FULLER.  221 

By  nine  o'clock  the  breeze  increased  to  a  gale,  and  by  midnight  to  a 
hurricane.  Yet,  in  their  ne\v  and  strong  vessel  there  was  little  alarm 
until  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  she  struck  upon  the 
beach  at  Fire  Island. 

I  cannot  picture  to  you  the  details  of  the  scenes  that  followed,  the 
fright  of  the  child,  whom  Margaret  soothed  to  sleep  on  her  bosom,  and 
the  despair  of  the  maid,  whom  Ossoli  calmed  by  prayer  and  kindness. 
Those  on  board  used  every  effort  to  save  them,  but  Margaret  refused  to 
be  separated  from  her  husband  and  child,  and  they  were  swept  into  the 
sea  together. 

Of  all  Margaret's  treasures  only  the  lifeless  body  of  the  beautiful 
child  was  borne  to  the  shore  and  saved.  It  was  tenderly  wrapped  in 
his  own  little  robe,  found  in  the  mother's  trunk,  and  laid  by  the 
sailors  in  the  soft  sand,  from  which  it  was  taken  and  afterwards 
laid  in  the  cemetery  of  Mt.  Auburn,  where  a  monument  is  raised 
sacred  to  the  memory  of  the  blessed  three. 

Her  great  work  on  Italy  was  hopelessly  lost !  But  her  greater 
work  in  Italy  is  not  lost,  is  not  forgotten  by  the  generous  people  whom 
she  loved  and  served  ;  and  her  work  for  humanity  and  for  woman  is 
not  lost  while  we  gather  together  in  her  name  to  learn  of  her  spirit 
and  to  consecrate  ourselves  to  carrying  on  her  work. 

In  1857  an  interesting  article  on  Margaret  Fuller  was  published  by 
Pasquale  Yillari,  who  has  since  become  not  only  one  of  the  most  ac 
complished  scholars,  but  one  of  the  ablest  statesmen  of  the  new  Italy, 
being  Minister  of  Education  for  several  years,  and  earning  from  the 
people  the  well-deserved  title  of  "  The  minister  who  tells  the  truth." 
He  is  well  known  to  American  readers  by  his  biographies  of  Machia- 
velli  and  Savonarola,  as  well  as  by  many  important  essays. 

It  does  not  appear  that  he  enjoyed  the  personal  acquaintance  of 
Madame  Ossoli,  but  he  speaks  the  feeling  of  his  fellow-countrymen 
towards  her,  and  gathers  for  them  the  brief  notices  of  her  early  life 
from  the  first  biography  then  recently  published. 

But  his  estimate  of  her  love  for  and  her  services  to  his  beloved 
country  interests  us.  Among  those  generous  souls  faho  have  held 
Italy  as  dear  to  them  as  their  own  native  land,  he  says,  "  One  was 
certainly  the  American  Margaret  Fuller,  who  was  wont  to  say  to  her 
friends,  "  I  believe  that  I  had  a  life  before  this,  and  that  I  was  then 
born  in  Italy." 

After  telling  the  story  of  her  life  in  Italy,  of  her  marriage,  mother- 


222  APPENDIX. 

hood,  and  tragic  death,  which  is  familiar  to  us  from  the  same  sources 
from   which    he  draws  it,  he  thus   closes :  — 

"So  finished  the  life  of  a  woman  who  dedicated  to  Italy  her  dearest  affec 
tions,  her  deepest  thoughts,  who  even  in  her  childhood  sighed  to  live  in  this 
our  country  ;  for  in  it  she  felt  for  the  first  time  the  vigor  and  force  of  her 
life,  and  in  it  only  it  seemed  possible  to  live.  And  when  misfortune  and 
poverty  constrained  her  to  exile  in  America,  one  thought  alone  consoled 
her;  that  of  recounting  the  new  glories  and  new  misfortunes  of  the  country 
of  her  choice.  Could  Italy  repay  such  love  with  forgetfulness  ?"  * 

*  Saggi  di  Storia,  di  Critica,  e  di  Politica  per  Pasquale  Villari,  Nuovamente 
Raccolti  e  Riveduti  dall'  Autore.  Firenze  :  Tifografia  Cavour,  Via  Cavour,  No. 
560.  1868. 


THE    REIGN    OF   WOMANHOOD.  223 


THE   REIGX    OF   WOMANHOOD. 

Address  by  Mrs.  Ednah  D.  Cheney  in  the  Mechanics  Institute,  June  20, 
1897,  on  the  Occasion  of  the  Unitarian  Service  in  Commemoration 
of  the  Queen  s  Diamond  Jubilee. 

So  God  created  man  in  His  own  image,  in  the  image  of  God  created  He  him  ; 
male  and  female  created  He  them.  —  Genesis  i.  27. 

THIS  one  verse  contains  a  condensed  statement  of  the  great  beginning 
of  creation.  First,  God  created  man  in  His  own  image,  and  this  is 
repeated,  in  the  image  of  God  created  He  him ;  then  as  duality 
begins  to  appear,  male  and  female  created  He  them,  and  the  history 
of  mankind  in  its  struggle  begins  to  be  related. 

The  problem  of  our  age  is  womanhood ;  and  therefore  on  this  day 
when  we  celebrate  the  longest,  the  most  prosperous  and  peaceful 
reign  which  England  has  ever  known,  and  under  the  beneficent 
guiding  hand  of  a  true  woman,  it  is  becoming  for  us  to  consider  this 
great  problem,  not  so  much  in  its  outward  and  practical  form,  which 
it  will  take  our  next  century  to  work  out,  as  in  its  inner  meaning, 
and  in  reference  to  the  eternal  principles  which  alone  will  lead  us  to 
its  final  and  triumphant  solution. 

For  the  true  meaning  of  this  primal  question  of  sex  does  not  con 
sist  alone  of  the  outward  form,  which  envelops  the  human  spirit,  but 
in  its  essential  spirit.  We  are  seeking  to  fathom  the  secret  of  life  and 
to  enter  into  the  purposes  of  creation.  We  are  trying,  if  not  to  com 
prehend,  at  least  to  apprehend  the  thought  of  God,  when  out  of  the 
peaceful  unity  of  being  He  brought  all  this  complex,  warring,  jarring 
life  of  creation,  in  which  the  two  forces  ever  tending  to  reunion  and 
mutual  action  are  the  necessary  condition  of  all  life.  Sex  as  the 
most  universal  manifestation  of  the  first  step  in  creation  is  traceable 
throughout  all  life,  and  for  perfect  knowledge  of  it  we  must  study  it 
alike  iu  the  formation  of  the  zoophyte  as  in  the  imagination  of  the 
angelic  natures.  Such  cannot  be  the  work  of  a  brief  hour.  Only  a 
sketch  of  the  essential  points  can  be  given.  This  great  mystery,  how 
out  of  the  One  comes  first  the  two,  and  out  of  the  twain  again  come 


224  APPENDIX. 

the  many,  confronts  us  everywhere,  in  science,  in  life,  in  metaphysics, 
in  religion. 

We,  as  Unitarians,  may  rightfully  give  up  the  narrow  form  of  a 
Trinity  which  saw  the  incarnation  of  God  in  one  mystic  Being  alone, 
and  not  in  all  the  wondrous  world  of  life,  but  we  cannot  get  away 
from  the  philosophic  Trinity  which  recognizes  the  One,  the  All,  the 
two  through  which  unity  acts,  and  the  resulting  third  which  is  the 
Spirit  of  Life,  making  possible  all  this  universe  of  infinite  variety  and 
yet  underlying  harmony. 

You  will  find  this  Trinity,  which  has  its  representation  in  sex, 
running  through  all  the  phenomena  of  life  which  we  investigate  by 
science.  It  is  as  true  and  as  easily  exemplified  in  the  most  practical 
mechanics,  the  most  subtle  chemistry,  as  in  the  sublimest  astronomy. 

"  It  is  as  high  as  heaven  ;  it  is  deep  as  hell."  No  mythology 
can  begin  to  read  the  riddle  of  the  universe,  but  it  has  to  meet  the 
question  of  man  and  woman.  Poetry  is  never  weary  of  celebrating 
this  relation,  and  finding  every  charm  and  glory  of  the  universe  but 
a  symbol  of  its  power  and  beauty.  Law  has  a  maxim  that  "every 
thing  has  a  woman  in  it,"  and  until  you  get  at  the  part  she  has  played 
in  the  case  you  are  groping  in  the  dark.  Goethe,  who  well  knew  the 
importance  of  this  thought,  lias  expressed  his  Trinity  in  the  simplest 
form  of  the  joy  of  family  life. 

After  the  birth  of  Euphorion,  the  mystical  child  of  love,  the  chorus 

sing, 

"  Love  in  human  wise  to  bless  us, 

In  a  noble  pair  must  be, 
But  divinely  to  possess  us, 
It  must  form  a  perfect  Three." 

In  the  most  ancient  religions  known  to  us  the  human  mind  has 
recognized  that  the  duality  which  it  finds  in  life  has  its  origin  in  the 
divine  nature.  Samuel  Johnson  says  of  the  old  Hindu  writings  that 
"  they  treat  both  sexes  as  equally  necessary  to  the  conception  of  Deity. 
Creation  proceeds  from  the  divine  love  or  desire  becoming  twain,  male 
and  female." 

The  Hebrew  saw  the  same  truth  expressed  in  the  manifestation, 
"God  created  man  in  His  own  image;  male  and  female  created  He 
them,"  and  the  latest  scientist  traces  the  whole  evolution  of  this 
duality  running  through  the  mineral  world,  and  becoming  ever  clearer 
through  the  whole  range  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  until  it  blooms 


THE    REIGN   OF   WOMANHOOD.  225 

out  in  the  beauty  of  human  love,  and  the  whole  earth  in  its  springtide 
of  beauty  resounds  with  the  divine  epithalamium,  the  marriage  song 
of  insect  and  bird  which  call  to  each  other  from  treetop  to  treetop, 
"  God  is  love  and  we  are  His  offspring." 

The  same  thought  runs  through  the  Egyptian,  Phoenician,  Baby 
lonian  and  other  primitive  religions.  It  becomes  somewhat  obscured 
in  Christian  theology,  because  of  the  tendency  to  dogma  in  the  Chris 
tian  church,  but  it  has  still  always  existed  there  in  the  essential 
thought  of  the  Trinity,  and  in  the  very  inadequate,  though  beautiful 
symbolism  which  accepted  the  Virgin  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  as 
the  Divine  Mother  of  mankind.  And  so  necessary  is  this  recognition 
to  the  human  heart  that  the  honor  and  love  due  to  the  primal  Infinite 
God,  or  to  His  representative  in  humanity,  the  Divine  Son,  was 
almost  obscured  by  the  tenderer  trust  and  affection  given  to  the  Queen 
of  Heaven.  In  our  own  day  this  great  thought  has  again  found  ex 
pression  from  the  deep  heart  of  Theodore  Parker,  whose  reverent 
invocation  to  the  Source  of  all  good,  as  "our  Father  and  Mother,  too," 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  were  wont  to  hear  it. 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence  which  shows  how  the  highest  things 
of  heaven  are  mirrored  in  the  humblest  human  life,  that  the  poor 
widow  whose  welfare  the  great  sculptor,  Michael  Angelo,  made  his 
care,  addresses  him  in  her  letter  of  gratitude  as  "  My  father  and  my 
mother,  too." 

In  his  greatest  poem,  Faust,  the  German  Goethe,  the  leading  thinker 
and  poet  of  our  age,  has  given  immortal  expression  to  the  thought  of 
the  divine  womanhood,  in  the  line  which  is  spoken  by  the  chorus 
Mysticus  at  the  close  of  the  man's  life-long  struggle,  and  which  opens 
the  way  to  his  redemption  : 

"  Das  Ewig  "Weibliche  zieht  uns  hinan." 
(The  Eternal  Womanly  leadeth  us  on.) 

The  word  "  eternal "  makes  the  grand  thought  of  this  line.  Woman 
is  not  an  accident  of  creation,  a  necessity  of  earthly  life,  a  second 
thought  of  God,  who  found  man  too  lonely  if  left  to  himself,  and 
who  therefore  made  for  him  a  pleasing  toy  to  charm  his  leisure  hours 
and  soothe  him  when  ill  or  weary.  It  is  not  woman  as  a  minister 
to  earthly  pleasure  that  leadeth  us  on.  It  is  the  eternally  womanly, 
as  truly  divine,  as  essential  to  the  order  of  being  as  the  manly,  who 
is  to  lead  the  soul  upward  and  onward,  into  that  entire  oneness  with 

15 


226  APPENDIX. 

God  which  is  redemption  and  Heaven.  "  What  a  promise  of  con 
tinual  life  and  fresh  creation  is  there  in  these  words,  what  abounding 
love,  what  infinite  hope."  What  leadeth  us  on  ?  The  attractive 
principle,  the  love  which  receives  impulse  and  becomes  creative.  It  is 
at  once  attraction  which  stimulates  action  and  the  centripetal  power 
which  holds  action  true  to  its  centre.  While  the  degradation  of 
womanhood  is  the  most  terrible  evil  of  all  time,  our  own  fully  in 
cluded,  while  the  actual  manifestations  of  it,  the  fearful,  unspeakable, 
appalling  sin,  -misery,  shame,  the  leprosy  of  soul  and  body  resulting 
from  it,  fill  us  with  a  loathing,  a  horror,  a  despair  of  God  and  man, 
which  almost  turn  the  sun  to  blood  and  the  dearest  hopes  of  life  to 
misery,  there  remains  yet  one  Pole  Star  of  Faith  which  shines  through 
the  gloomiest  darkness  and  gives  us  hope  that  humanity  can  never 
wholly  lose  its  way,  but  is  bound  to  the  eternal  throne  of  God  by  a 
link  that  can  never  be  wholly  broken.  The  lowest,  vilest  man  does 
not  willingly  lose  his  ideal  of  woman,  does  somehow  cherish  some 
feeling  of  motherhood,  some  belief  in  an  unselfish  love,  some  little 
gleam  of  romance  in  his  heart,  some  sense  that  a  woman's  prayers  are 
more  powerful  than  his  curses,  some  thought  of  the  child  that  might 
have  clung  about  his  knees,  some  recognition  that  there  is  a  power  of 
love,  an  "  eternally  womanly  "  that  may  yet  lead  him  upward  and  on 
to  redeemed  life  out  of  the  very  jaws  of  death  and  hell.  Hence,  men 
judge  actual  women  so  severely  as  not  answering  to  their  ideal.  You 
remember  when  the  miners  of  California,  living  for  months  and  years 
their  wild,  half-savage  life,  heard  that  an  emigrant  train  was  coining, 
bringing  women  in  their  company,  they  exclaimed  :  "  Thank  God,  the 
women  are  coming  to  make  us  better."  They  knew  not  who  they 
were  ;  they  might  be  the  very  refuse  of  the  slums  of  the  cities,  driven 
out  by  dishonor  and  vice,  but  the  men  did  not  think  of  that ;  they 
recognized  the  "  eternally  womanly  "  and  the  first  thought  was  the 
manly,  noble  one  :  "  They  have  come  to  make  us  better."  The  nat 
ural  religion  of  these  rough  men  clung  to  their  ideal  and  hoped  thence 
their  salvation.  As  Goethe  said:  "My  idea  of  woman  is  not  ab 
stracted  from  the  phenomena  of  actual  life,  but  has  been  born  within 
me.  God  knows  how  !  " 

Man's  relation  to  woman  is  the  great  fact  of  his  moral  life.  If  he 
fails  in  it,  no  matter  how  the  world  may  condone  his  fault,  it  saps 
the  very  strength  of  his  manhood,  and  as  Shakespeare  so  truly  says, 
"Our  pleasant  vices  are  made  the  whips  to  scourge  us."  None  but 


THE   REIGN   OF   WOMANHOOD.  227 

the  poor  victim  can  fully  know  how  keen  are  the  tortures,  how  bitter 
the  humiliations  that  follow.  But  does  man  alone  need  to  worship 
a  lofty  ideal  born  instead  of  the  Spirit,  but  most  blessed  also  when 
revealed  in  flesh  and  blood  1  Does  not  woman,  too,  need  to  feel  the 
thrill  of  equal  divinity  in  her  partner  and  companion  ?  When  it  is 
claimed  that  women  should  take  their  share  of  the  active  work  and 
vital  responsibility  of  the  world's  life  we  often  hear  men  say,  "  Oh, 
we  do  not  want  woman  brought  down  from  her  lofty  pedestal ;  we 
want  our  ideal  kept  high  and  pure."  Do  you  ever  think  that  woman, 
too,  must  have  her  ideal  of  man  kept  pure  and  holy  1  Can  she  touch 
pitch  and  not  be  defiled  1  Her  ideal  of  man  must  match  her  own 
standard  of  spiritual  purity  and  truth,  or  instead  of  leading  him  on 
she  is  dragged  down  to  the  dust  with  him.  The  whole  meaning  of 
sex  is  mutual  relation  and  the  one  sex  must  be  fit  to  mate  the  other. 
"  All  are  needed  by  each  one  ;  nothing  is  fair  or  good  alone."  A  man 
expressed  to  me  the  other  day  his  hopelessness  of  the  moral  condition 
of  his  own  sex,  which  he  believed  was  sinking  lower  and  lower  in 
depravity.  I  could  not,  would  not,  despair  with  him,  and  I  find  my 
best  hope  in  the  fact  that  the  noblest  men  everywhere  are  earnestly 
longing  that  a  higher  standard,  a  standard  as  high  for  them  as  for 
women,  shall  be  held  up  before  them,  and  that  the  women  of  actual 
life  whom  they  meet  day  by  day  should  demand  of  them  the  strictest 
fidelity  to  it. 

If  the  human  heart  was  not  satisfied  in  its  earliest  efforts  to  draw 
near  to  the  secrets  of  life  without  the  recognition  of  the  woman,  the 
mother,  in  God,  whence  came  then  the  debasing  views  of  woman  which 
have  had  such  sway  in  the  world  and  have  produced  such  corruption 
and  misery  that  we  shrink  from  any  effort  to  portray  it  ?  Even  the 
effort  to  express  this  dual  thought  of  God,  mingled  with  an  anthropo 
morphism  which,  "  making  of  God  even  such  a  one  as  themselves," 
has  enlarged  the  selfish,  narrow  passions  of  humanity  into  universal 
proportions,  until  the  great  fact  of  evil  and  sin  covered  the  whole 
sphere  of  thought  and  religion.  This  tremendous  problem  of  the 
existence  of  evil  demanded  a  solution.  Man  must  have  been  wholly 
divine,  pure  in  his  origin  ;  what  could  have  separated  him  from  God  1 
It  must  be  a  power  almost  equal  to  God  that  could  thus  strive  against 
and  often  seemingly  overcome  him  ;  and,  as  this  power  was  subtle  and 
wise  after  its  kind,  and  knew  that  when  the  best  is  turned  to  evil  it 
becomes  the  worst,  so  the  evil  power  sought  his  instrument  in  woman, 


228  APPENDIX. 

the  embodiment  of  love,  and  she  came  to  express  in  the  popular  the 
ology,  not  the  upward,  redeeming  source  of  good,  but  the  arch  tempt 
ress  to  sin  and  evil.  Thus  woman  in  many  mythologies  is  both  the 
tempter  and  savior.  She  represents  attractive  love,  and  that  love  is 
capable  of  being  the  greatest  incentive  to  good  or  the  most  feurful 
impulse  to  evil,  as  it  is  received  and  developed.  So  in  Hebrew 
thought  woman  is  the  tempter ;  yet  the  pure  mother  bringing  forth 
the  son,  that  is,  restoring  the  whole,  the  harmony  brings  also  salva 
tion.  So  even  the  thought  of  fatherhood  and  motherhood  became 
tainted  with  sin,  and  the  monstrous  doctrine,  which  lies  like  a  heavy 
pall  over  the  sweet  region  of  theology,  the  doctrine  of  innate  depravity 
and  total  alienation  from  God,  being  conceived  and  bom  in  sin,  has 
carried  its  message  of  doubt,  despair,  and  hate  into  the  fairest  regions 
of  life.  Against  it  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  motherhood  is  perpetu 
ally  striving,  and  it  is  to  the  recognition  of  the  holiness  of  the  feminine 
principle  that  we  must  look  for  the  regeneration  of  the  world.  Jesus 
set  a  little  child  in  the  midst  of  them  and  said,  "  Of  such  is  the  king 
dom  of  heaven."  Could  He  have  been  thinking  of  him  as  the  offspring 
of  the  devil  1  In  the  Christian  church  the  two  opposite  conceptions 
of  woman  have  remained  side  by  side  struggling  with  each  other ;  but 
where  in  the  words  of  Jesus  Himself,  even  when  He  speaks  to  one  who 
calls  herself  a  sinner,  is  there  ever  a  want  of  recognition  of  the  love 
to  which  all  will  be  forgiven  ?  There  was  a  time  when  woman  was 
the  type  of  all  evil,  and  when  the  deepest  and  holiest  of  human  rela 
tions  could  not  be  consecrated  within  the  walls  of  a  church.  It  was  a 
great  step  in  the  recognition  of  her  nature  when  marriage  was  recog 
nized  as  a  sacrament,  a  symbol  of  that  divine  union  which  can  alone 
promote  harmony  and  life.  Even  now  it  is  felt  that  the  presence  of 
woman  desecrates  many  of  the  holy  places  of  the  church,  and,  while 
the  Virgin  is  honored,  and  saints  and  martyrs  are  objects  of  prayer 
and  devotion,  the  human,  living  mother  is  not  received  into  the  active 
service  and  honors  of  the  church.  Nor  are  our  Protestant  skirts  free 
from  this  reproach,  while  large  bodies  of  religious  men  refuse  to  hear 
the  divine  message  if  it  come  from  the  lips  of  a  woman.  Yet  in  all 
religions  and  all  mythologies  woman  has  had  direct  reception  from 
divinity  and  become  the  inspired  prophetess.  There  is  one  aspect 
of  the  religious  veneration  for  woman  which,  while  it  has  its  deep 
meaning  and  beautiful  expression,  has  yet  worked  great  mischief, 
because  it  is  partial  and  not  the  whole  truth.  In  the  ancient  religions 


THE   REIGN   OF   WOMANHOOD.  229 

we  find  that  it  is  mainly  as  the  human  mother  that  woman  is  honored. 
As  a  wife  she  is  loved  indeed,  but  loved  as  a  possession,  and  this 
love,  so  often  selfish  and  exacting,  allied  so  closely  to  selh'sh  enjoy 
ment  and  the  lust  of  power,  has  thus  become  the  greatest  of  dangers, 
the  worst  of  foes  to  woman.  It  is  only  the  mother  who  has  always 
claimed  a  certain  independent  value  and  secured  a  measure  of  pure 
honor  and  respect,  and  even  this  feeling  is  vitiated  by  the  selh'sh 
superstition  that,  as  the  father  of  sons  whom  she  has  brought  to 
him  the  lasting  glory  of  the  man  is  secure.  Thus  even  in  the  deepest 
corruption  of  womanhood  something  of  purity  and  nobility  and  truth 
has  lingered  about  the  idea  of  motherhood,  and  its  power  to  restore 
purity  to  the  soul,  and  hope  to  the  life,  is  acknowledged  even  in 
those  whom  the  world  counts  as  lost.  The  Koran  says  :  "  Woman 
is  admitted  to  paradise  only  when  she  becomes  a  mother."  If  woman 
is  not  immortal  by  nature  she  is  not  worthy  to  become  a  mother. 
She  cannot  give  immortal  life  to  her  son.  Until  it  recognizes  the 
true  essential  life  of  woman,  Islam  will  always  be  a  partial,  not  a 
universal  religion.  That  this  is  the  greatest  distinctive  function  of 
earthly  womanhood  who  will  deny  1  But  sin,  falsehood,  misery  come 
in  whenever  we  separate  one  function,  however  important,  from  the 
whole  of  life.  Wholeness  is  holiness,  and  when  we  assume  to  cut 
off  one  part  we  destroy  the  harmony,  we  vitiate  the  purity  of  the 
whole.  Fatherhood,  too,  is  great  and  holy,  so  holy  that  we  have 
transferred  its  name  to  the  One,  the  Author  of  all  good,  but  father 
hood  is  not  the  only  duty  of  humanity.  We  reverence  the  Roman 
father  who  sacrificed  his  son  at  the  bidding  of  the  public  law  which 
he  had  sworn  to  support.  Woman  is  a  mother  ;  but  she  is  more  than 
a  mother.  She  is  a  living,  immortal  soul.  She  is  a  child  of  God  and 
she  is  bound  to  fulfil  all  life  and  all  righteousness  as  much  as  man  is. 
Her  life,  her  duty  as  wife  and  mother  is  great  and  holy.  But  she  has 
a  larger  responsibility  to  the  State,  to  her  own  soul,  to  truth  and 
righteousness,  to  the  Infinite  Whole.  God  is  a  very  jealous  God,  and 
will  accept  no  human  relation  as  before  the  high  allegiance  to  His 
truth.  You  remember,  in  Scott's  beautiful  story,  the  sore  trial  of  the 
noble  Jeanie  Deans,  who  will  not  save  her  sister's  life  at  the  cost  of 
truth  ;  and  the  same  courage  which  enabled  her  to  hold  true  to  right 
in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  the  poor  girl,  and  most  of  all  of  her  own 
loving  heart,  gives  her  the  strength  for  the  great  effort  which  can 
redeem  her  sister  and  keep  God's  law  unbroken. 


230  APPENDIX. 

There  is  an  old  legend,  well  told  by  Chaucer,  of  the  wife  Griselda, 
a  poor  peasant  maiden  beloved  and  wedded  by  a  rich  lord.  After  she 
had  become  the  mother  of  his  children  he  took  the  fancy  to  try  her 
virtue  (for  he  and  she  deemed  absolute  submission  and  self-sacrifice  to 
be  the  sum  of  all  virtue  for  a  woman)  by  driving  her  from  her  home 
and  children  back  to  the  peasant's  hut  from  which  he  took  her.  She 
yields  uncomplainingly,  and  separated  from  her  home  spends  long 
years  in  poverty  and  exile,  only  to  be  restored  to  her  children  when 
the  tyrant's  greed  of  power  was  satisfied. 

James  Russell  Lowell  well  says  :  "  No  woman  approves  Griselda, 
and  I  would  not  wish  a  woman  for  my  wife  who  did.  She  sacri 
ficed  all  other  duties  to  one  she  had  taken  a  fancy  to." 

So  woman  has  too  often  accepted  a  fancied  duty,  a  romantic  virtue, 
instead  of  recognizing  her  whole  relation  to  God  and  humanity,  which 
demands  of  her  the  full  development  of  her  nature,  and  the  employ 
ment  of  every  God-given  faculty.  And  as  "  he  who  loseth  his  life  for 
my  sake  shall  find  it,"  so  the  seeming  sacrifice  of  the  partial  duty  to 
the  higher  will  give  her  back  to  the  nobler  fulfilment  of  the  nearest 
and  tenderest  ties.  "  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much,  loved  I  not 
honor  more."  With  the  exclusive  acceptance  of  special  function  has 
grown  the  idea  of  woman  as  an  accident  of  creation,  an  adjunct  to  the 
masculine  type  of  humanity,  created  for  his  enjoyment  and  help,  and 
having  no  right  to  seek  her  own  fulness  of  life  and  action.  Every 
great  error  is  related  to  some  great  trutli  so  closely  that  it  is  often 
very  hard  to  separate  them.  So  this  false  idea  which  has  engen 
dered  all  woman's  wretchedness  and  fatal  wrong  to  herself  and  others 
is  nearly  related  to  the  great  truth  that  the  idea  of  womanhood  always 
suggests  that  of  relation.  Symbolizing  as  she  does  the  attractive  forces 
of  existence,  beauty  winning  to  union,  the  part  never  complete  with 
out  its  complement,  in  one  all-comprehensive  word,  love. 

Woman  is  constantly  tending  towards  relation,  and  her  happiness  is 
not  complete,  her  life  is  not  fulfilled  except  in  recognition  of  the  life 
of  others,  in  perpetual  receiving  from  and  giving  out  to  others. 

You  will  tell  me  and  tell  me  correctly  that  this  is  also  true  of  man, 
and  that  the  highest  man  is  no  more  self-dependent  than  the  most 
loving  woman. 

But  this  truth  of  relation  which  has  been  emphasizedand  developed, 
though  often  in  the  poorest  way,  as  regards  woman,  has  been  obscured 
in  man,  as  he  has  so  largely  taken  the  material  aggressive  part  of  the 


THE   REIGN    OF    WOMANHOOD.  231 

life  of  the  world,  and  as  woman,  in  so  far  truly  his  worst  enemy,  has 
yielded  to  his  exactions  and  fostered  his  pride  of  authority  and 
self-love. 

But  woman's  ideal  of  man  is  as  truly  that  of  a  nobly,  grandly,  un 
selfish  self-forgetful  ness  as  his  of  her.  Philip  Sydney,  passing  the 
water  from  his  own  fevered  lips  to  those  of  his  dying  fellow-soldier, 
is  dearer  to  her-  memory  than  the  conqueror  of  a  battle-field,  and 
Charles  Lamb,  giving  up  his  own  dearest  hopes  in  life  to  shelter  his 
unfortunate  sister,  is  beloved  and  reverenced  in  spite  of  many  a 
failing. 

You  may  smile  at  the  trifling  anecdote  I  tell  you,  but  the  thought 
of  it  has  remained  with  me  nearly  sixty  years.  On  my  first  long 
journey  to  the  mountains,  as  we  stopped  at  a  hotel,  and  the  elders  were 
making  arrangements  for  rooms,  I  overheard  a  bright  young  fellow 
say,  "  Oh,  put  me  anywhere,  it  does  not  matter  what  I  have."  In  my 
girlish  innocence  I  thought,  "  What  a  blessed  privilege  of  manhood 
which  does  not  ask  to  be  guarded  and  sheltered  and  pleased,  but  can 
have  the  higher  part  of  serving  others  and  renouncing  his  comfort  for 
their  good."  This  chance  word  gave  me  an  ideal  of  manhood,  which, 
thank  God,  I  have  never  lost,  and  have  seen  realized  in  many  a  noble, 
many  an  humble  soul.  True  manhood  and  true  womanhood  are  ever 
appearing  in  various  forms,  for  the  two  are  one.  I  know  not  whether 
Coleridge  is  right  in  asserting,  or  Theodore  Parker  was  wrong  in  deny 
ing,  that  there  is  sex  in  souls.  I  fear  we  shall  have  to  wait  until  we 
know  more  about  souls  and  more  about  sex  before  we  can  settle 
that  question ;  but  I  do  know  that  the  outward  form,  even  the  dis 
tinctive  functions  of  sex,  do  not  always  secure  the  special  characteris 
tics  which  we  suppose  to  belong  to  them ;  or  rather,  I  believe  that,  as 
we  rise  higher  and  higher  in  the  scale  of  spiritual  being,  the  differing 
qualities  which  we  find  expressed  in  sex  are  blended  into  a  more  per 
fect  harmony,  and  that  out  of  the  differentiation,  out  of  the  duality 
which  is  necessary  for  creation  and  life,  we  come  ever  and  ever 
nearer  to  a  restored  harmony  and  unity  of  being. 

So  when  we  consider  the  highest  representatives  of  masculine  hu 
manity,  Philip  Sydney,  Fenelou,  St.  Francis,  Channing,  and  above  all 
the  great  founders  of  religions,  Buddha  and  our  own  blessed  Jesus, 
we  cannot  but  recognize  in  them  the  perfect  blending  of  the  finest 
womanly  traits  with  the  strength  and  power  which  we  attribute  to 
man.  And  so  in  woman,  Joan  of  Arc,  the  girl  warrior ;  Elizabeth  of 


232  APPENDIX. 

Hungary ;  Catharine  of  Siena ;  Louise  of  Prussia  ;  Florence  Nightin 
gale,  —  hold  our  reverence  by  their  firm,  manly  courage  and  endur 
ance,  as  much  as  they  win  our  hearts  by  their  feminine  beauty  and 
tenderness.  » 

Dr.  Bartol  says  :  "  The  ever  womanly  leadeth  us  on,  but  the  ever 
manly,  too."  Attractions  must  become  equal  for  harmony  and  peace. 

I  have  said  that  this  is  the  era  of  womanhood.  He  who  runs  may 
read  the  prophecy  of  the  future  in  the  signs  of  the  present.  From 
Japan  to  Australia,  in  India,  Russia,  Finland,  as  well  as  in  the  fore 
most  countries  of  Europe  and  America,  we  hear  the  echoes  of  her 
onward  tread,  and  those  who  fear  its  victory  are  helping  it  on  by  the  in 
terest  and  discussion  they  excite.  Everywhere  there  is  new  recogni 
tion  of  her  rights  and  her  duties.  The  Mohammedan  woman  of  India 
rides  in  her  palanquin  to  the  polls  to  vote,  and  the  woman  on  her 
bicycle  is  no  more  a  wonder  on  the  streets  than  a  baby  in  its  go-cart. 
The  young  woman  no  longer  prides  herself  on  the  delicacy  of  her  con 
stitution  and  the  nervous  weakness  which  screams  at  the  sight  of  a 
spider,  but  guards  her  health  as  a  precious  possession,  not  to  preserve 
her  personal  beauty,  but  to  give  her  strength  to  do  her  work. 

Everywhere  there  is  fresh  inquiry  in  woman's  essential  nature. 
Science  seeks  to  discover  it  by  the  analogies  of  the  zoophyte  and  the 
trilobite  and  the  loves  of  plants ;  and  poetry  finds  it  in  the  instincts 
of  her  heart.  The  great  problem  of  the  mutual  relations  between 
man  and  woman  is  the  constant  theme  of  discussion,  and  its  solution 
varies  from  the  old  view,  which  gives  all  the  rights  to  man  and  all 
the  duties  to  women,  to  the  sentimental  dream  which  puts  woman  on 
a  pedestal  to  be  worshipped,  instead  of  into  the  great  school  of  life  to 
be  nourished  and  taught. 

The  scale  has  dipped  pretty  heavily  on  one  side,  until  it  becomes 
very  evident  that  something  must  be  done  to  restore  the  balance,  or 
civilization  will  fall  of  its  own  false  position.  There  may  be  not  a 
little  jarring  before  it  is  rightly  adjusted.  Already  there  are 
those  who  fear  that  man  may  have  become  so  sure  of  his  intellectual 
and  bodily  superiority  that  he  is  in  danger  of  losing  hold  of  his  true 
equality,  and  that  the  highest  offices  of  life,  the  spiritual  guiding  of 
the  child,  the  religious  influence  on  the  community,  the  aspiration  for 
the  highest  purity  are  in  danger  of  passing  from  his  grasp,  and  he  is 
likely  to  be  left  powerless  and  be  obliged  to  give  up  the  sceptre  to 
woman.  Was  it  not  sadly  significant  when  the  great  lawyer  had  to 


THE   REIGX   OF   WOMANHOOD.  233 

say,  "I  don't  understand  Emerson;  my  gals  do"?  It  is  said  that, 
great  lawyer  as  Jeremiah  Mason  was,  this  recognition  that  it  required 
the  feminine  intuition  to  understand  the  highest  mind  of  his  time 
is  the  only  thing  likely  to  be  remembered  of  him. 

Still  sadder,  still  more  alarming  is  the  fact  that  man's  grasp  on 
moral  truth  has  been  in  danger  of  loosening,  and  that  in  the  selfish 
struggles  of  his  lower  nature  for  power  and  enjoyment  he  has  sold  his 
birthright  of  integrity  and  purity  for  the  miserable  pottage  of  sensual 
and  worldly  pleasure.  A  late  speaker  on  Evolution  finds  this  the 
danger  of  the  hour,  and  asserts  that  woman  is  now  in  the  van  of  the 
world's  progress  of  evolution,  but  that  until  she  can  draw  man  up  to 
her  standard  of  truth  and  purity  the  onward  march  of  the  world 
will  be  stayed. 

In  the  intellectual  world  the  advance  of  woman  is  so  rapid  in 
comparison  with  that  of  the  average  man  that  educators  are  consider 
ing  it  as  a  serious  problem  which  may  disturb  the  right  equilibrium. 
The  finer  faculties  of  the  brain  in  man  are  so  much  injured  by 
indulgence  in  intoxicating  liquor,  in  the  use  of  tobacco  from  an  early 
age,  and  from  still  more  dangerous  and  sinful  sensual  indulgences, 
that  the  danger  is  serious  that  they  may  not  be  able  to  do  their 
rightful  share  of  the  thinking  and  the  best  working  of  the  world. 
MY  heart  leaped  with  joy  when  I  heard  the  other  day  of  two  young 
men  who  said  :  "  No ;  I  cannot  afford  to  drink  ;  I  cannot  consent  to 
smoke ;  it  will  hinder  my  power  to  do  my  work."  And  when  I  be 
thought  myself  that  the  mother  of  that  family  was  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  intellectual  women  of  the  country  I  felt  how  this  noble 
spirit  was  born  in  them,  and  that  "  the  eternally  womanly  was  lead 
ing  them  on.'7 

While  pessimism  has  been  rampant  in  our  day  and  the  degenera 
tion  of  society  has  been  the  theme  of  philosophers  and  the  despairing 
question,  "Is  life  worth  living]"  is  answered  by  a  jest,  there  are 
gleams  of  hope  and  promise  which  show  us  that  "  the  eternally 
womanly  is  still  leading  us  on,"  and  that  man's  noblest  nature  is 
asserting  itself  and  struggling  up  to  the  same  high  aims. 

In  our  own  day  we  are  blessed  with  the  reign  of  womanhood  (long 
may  it  continue),  wrhich  is  enough  to  cheer  our  hearts  and  confirm 
our  faith  in  its  ultimate  power  in  the  kingdom  of  man. 

England  was  wise  indeed  when  she  repudiated  the  salique  law  and 
recognized  the  right  of  the  daughters  of  kings  to  their  fathers'  throne, 


234  APPENDIX. 

even  while  her  laws  still  held  the  common  woman  in  abject  servitude 
to  her  husband.  By  this  means  she  has  preserved  an  ideal  of 
womanhood,  an  acknowledgment  of  her  right  in  the  universe,  which, 
however  partial  and  obscured,  has  kept  an  image  for  loyal  devotion 
in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  has  thus,  by  preserving  for  her  a  legitimate 
power,  saved  the  nation  from  the  basest  influences.  Michelet  says  : 
"  France,  which  established  the  salique  law,  has  always  been  ruled 
by  the  distaff."  And  the  distaff  has  not  been  in  the  hands  of  the 
honest  working-woman,  but  France  has  too  often  been  ruled  by  the 
imperious  false  favorites  of  her  kings,  who,  receiving  nothing  from 
their  country,  have  given  her  nothing  but  treachery  in  return. 

For  sixty  years  a  woman  has  sat  upon  the  throne  of  the  foremost 
nation  of  Europe.  Her  name  is  known,  beloved,  and  honored  all 
around  the  earth,  for  the  sun  does  not  set  upon  the  world  that  owns 
her  sway.  We  do  not  claim  her  as  an  exceptional  woman,  but  as  a 
true  woman.  Not  gifted  with  the  dangerously  fascinating  beauty  of 
Mary  of  Scotland,  the  genius  of  Elizabeth  of  England,  or  the  daring 
of  Catherine  of  Russia  ;  she  is  a  typical  woman,  clear  in  her  percep 
tions  of  right,  entire  in  her  devotion  to  duty,  loving  and  tender  in  her 
heart,  holy  and  pure  in  her  life.  She  has  accepted  the  high  position 
to  which  she  was  called  by  inheritance,  with  its  heavy  responsibili 
ties,  but  has  done  so,  not  that  the  nation  might  be  governed  by  her 
personal  will,  but  that  the  whole  wisdom  of  the  past,  as  embodied  in 
law  and  the  best  intelligence  of  the  whole  people,  might  find  expres 
sion  in  her  action. 

She  has  not,  in  gaining  the  kingdom  of  the  world,  lost  her  own 
soul ;  she  has  preserved  her  personality  untouched,  the  Queen  in  all 
public  relations ;  she  has  never  forgotten  her  personal  responsibility 
to  her  God  in  her  private  duties. 

She  has  fulfilled  every  function  of  human  life  with  simple  fidelity. 
Blessed,  thrice  blessed  among  queens,  her  marriage  was  consecrated 
by  deep  and  lasting  affection,  and  in  the  partner  of  her  life  she 
found  a  fitting  mate,  a  true  and  noble  man  whom  she  could  value 
and  respect  for  his  own  worth,  and  whom  she  did  not  consider  as  the 
first  of  her  subjects,  but  as  her  equal  and  life  helper.  To  his  inde 
pendent  thought  and  life  England  is  largely  indebted  for  many  a 
noble  work,  as  well  as  for  the  happiness  which  he  brought  to  her 
Queen.  The  royal  home  was  as  sweet  and  sacred  as  the  peasant's 
cot.  She  has  been  the  mother,  not  of  future  kings  and  queens  alone, 


THE   REIGN   OF   WOMANHOOD.  235 

but  of  immortal  human  souls,  and  she  felt  that  only  greater  responsi 
bility  rested  upon  her  to  guide  them  aright,  since  on  their  fidelity 
might  rest  the  welfare  of  millions  of  her  fellow-men. 

What  an  influence  has  such  a  life,  known  and  seen  of  all  men,  not 
exercised  throughout  the  regions  which  have  acknowledged  her  sway  ! 
It  seems  as  if  it  were  indeed  a  shining  light  set  upon  a  hill  to  show 
that  the  truest  womanliness  is  in  union  with  the  broadest  useful 
ness,  the  widest  relations  of  influence  and  responsibility. 

The  last  sixty  years  have  not  been  a  period  of  millennial  peace.  It 
has  been  a  time  of  wars  and  revolutions  upon  the  earth,  teeming  with 
the  most  burning  questions  of  capital  and  labor,  of  races  and 
religions,  of  systems  of  thought,  of  material  changes.  England  has 
had  her  full  share  in  all  these  movements.  Far  different  is  the  Eng 
land  of  to-day  from  that  over  which  the  young  maiden  was  called  to 
preside,  but  under  the  leading  of  the  ever  womanly  it  has  gone  up 
ward  and  onward.  It  has  known  progress  through  struggles,  alter 
nations  of  misery  and  hope,  bitter  passions  seeking  vent  in  violent 
action,  cruel  indifference  to  others'  wrongs,  and  selfish  quarrels  for 
personal  rights. 

But  through  it  all  we  can  look  back  and  see  a  marked  progress  in 
moral  as  well  as  material  growth,  and  it  has  come  through  reform 
and  not  through  revolution.  Can  we  not  feel  through  all  these  years 
a  calm,  sweet  influence  which  has  made  itself  quietly  felt  through  the 
turmoil,  and  held  many  a  turbulent  spirit  under  the  mild  check  of  a 
loyalty  which  was  of  love  rather  than  of  enforced  obedience  1  I  am 
a  born  and  bred  Republican,  yet  I  have  long  felt  that  the  gracious 
influence  of  England's  Queen  has  brooded  like  a  benediction  over  all 
her  people,  and  has  done  more  to  hold  closer  the  ties  of  country  in 
the  far-off  homes  of  many  an  Englishman  than  any  other  influence. 
"I  cannot  forswear  my  allegiance  to  Queen  Victoria"  is  the 
thought  which  fills  the  heart  of  many  an  emigrant  and  still  holds  it 
true  to  his  native  land. 

Thus  in  many  different  ways  the  "eternally  feminine  leadeth  us 
on ; "  thus  it  will  more  and  more  find  its  full  expression  in  all  depart 
ments  of  the  life  of  the  world. 

Last  week  when  I  listened  to  the  glorious  celebration  of  our  young 
martyr  to  liberty  for  the  negro,  Robert  Shaw,  the  "  Battle  Hymn  of  the 
Republic  "  was  sung.  A  chorus  of  male  voices  began  the  strain  with  a 
quick,  sharp  rhythm,  which  sounded  like  the  quick  tread  of  armed 


236  APPENDIX. 

men  or  a  volley  of  musketry.  It  left  something  wanting  to  the  ear 
and  mind,  of  the  majestic  flow  of  a  great  nation's  life ;  but  one  by  one 
the  voices  of  the  people  began  to  mingle  with  the  strain,  and  soon 
there  came  a  sweet,  harmonizing  tone  which  seemed  to  float  down 
from  heaven,  as  the  women's  voices  mingled  with  the  music ;  and  the 
rattle  of  the  guns  appeared  to  cease,  and  the  step  to  become  more 
glad  and  free,  and  the  watchword  of  the  mystical  chorus  as  they  sang, 
"  As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  them  free,"  re 
called  the  beautiful  voice  and  life  of  the  young  leader,  and  we  felt 
the  eternally  feminine  leadeth  them  on.  So  will  that  feminine  voice 
mingle  more  and  more  in  the  world's  life  and  complete  the  full 
harmony. 

We  are  thankful  to-day  for  the  noble  life  of  the  Queen  of  these 
realms  ;  we  are  thankful  for  it  as  a  history  of  human  progress  towards 
more  and  better  national  life  ;  but  more  than  all  do  we  prize  it  and 
thank  God  for  it,  as  a  prophecy  of  the  finer,  broader  development 
of  womanhood,  and  of  the  time  when  all  the  strength  of  manhood 
and  all  the  love  of  womanhood  shall  be  so  blended  in  life  that  they 
shall  bring  us  nearer  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  reign  of  truth  and 
peace. 


TO  MRS.  CHENEY.* 

Thy  voice  so  clear,  persuasive,  half  convinces 

Even  before  the  rnind  receives  thy  words  ; 
For  candor,  tolerance,  freedom  from  pretences 

Breathe  in  its  penetrating  fine  accords. 
Yet  so  impersonal  and  pure  thy  pleading 

We  think  of  thee  less  than  what  thou  hast  said, 
And  follow  all  confidingly  thy  leading 

Unconscious  we  are  led. 

HARRIET  W.  SEWALL. 


*  Found  among  Mrs.  Sevvall's  papers  after  her  death. 


FIFTIETH   BIRTHDAY.  237 


FIFTIETH  BIRTHDAY,  JUNE  27,  1874. 

Silver  Cheney's  golden  day, 
Hastens  with  auspicious  ray, 
She  serene  asks  no  delay. 

Fifty  years  that  came  and  went, 
Full  of  labor  and  intent, 
Were  to  her  beneficent. 

Throned  in  philosophic  ease, 
Yet  her  heart  its  errand  sees, 
Near  to  human  miseries. 

Lifting  a  victorious  tone 

Where  weak  creatures  faint  and  moan 

To  a  Zenith  of  her  own. 

Some  fair  grace  when  she  was  born 
Said  this  white  rose  shall  be  worn 
Out  of  stain  and  out  of  thorn. 

Human  love  that  did  arise 
Fair  and  stately  to  her  eyes 
Waits  for  her  in  Paradise. 

Human  friendship  claims  her  still 
Faith  that  crowns  through  good  and  ill 
The  patient  majesty  of  will. 

Flits  our  age  in  memory's  glass, 
Half  we  see  but  shadowy  pass 
Ere  other  half  is  halved,  alas ! 

Brief  our  dream  of  bliss  or  pain, 
But  if  earnest  works  remain 
Cheney  hath  not  lived  in  vain. 

JULIA  WARD  HOWE. 


238  APPENDIX. 


PSYCHOMETEIC    READINGS. 

The  great  interest  felt  by  many  friends  in  the  psychometric 
readings  of  Miss  P has  led  me  to  place  here  a  few  records. 

These  records  were  made  at  the  very  time  they  were  written, 
and  I  have  given  them  unchanged,  although  naturally  they  were 
unmethodical  and  incomplete.  I  have  abstained  from  writing 
more,  because  I  hope  that  friends  will  sometime  be  enabled  to 
produce  a  full  and  accurate  report  of  this  very  interesting  contri 
bution  to  psychical  thought. 

SETH  WELLS  CHENEY. 

This  letter  gives  me  warmth  —  makes  my  fingers  tingle.  Are  the 
person's  lungs  strong?  I  have  soreness  in  chest.  IJe  would  enjoy 
this  beautiful  moonlight.  The  person  feels  deeply  and  strongly  — 
not  exactly  ardent,  but  has  a  deep  warmth  —  perhaps  excitable  and 
yet  apparently  calm.  Feelings  likely  to  be  lasting  and  deep. 
Greater  warmth  and  depth  of  feeling  than  he  appears  to  have.  He 
was  deeply  interested  in  the  subject  or  in  the  one  written  to  —  some 
thing  about  country  —  a  wild  country.  A  person  of  good  though  not 
great  mind  —  active  intellect.  This  letter  gives  me  the  impress-ion 
of  feeling  rather  than  thought.  The  person  would  feel  the  beauties 
of  nature.  He  loves  the  line  arts.  He  would  want  truth  to  nature 
in  art  to  satisfy  him.  I  cannot  express  my  thought  of  the  connection 
of  art  and  nature  in  this  person.  He  loves  the  fine  arts  —  would  see 
nature  with  an  artist's  eye,  and  art  with  eye  of  nature.  Keener  eye 
for  beauties  of  art  than  those  who  are  not  artists  have.  Loves  music 
—  drawing  —  sculpture — deep  enthusiasm.  Is  it  Seth  Cheney? 
Saw  a  lake — wild  mountain  —  one  softly  beautiful.  Switzerland 
comes  to  my  mind.* 

March  3d,  1844. 

*  This  letter  was  written  from  Switzerland. 


PSYCHOMETPJC   READINGS.  239 


JAXE  CHENEY. 

She  feels  she  is  misunderstood.     Makes  plays  in  words. 

When  embarrassed  sometimes  appears  flippant  to  hide  what  she  is 
really  feeling. 

Is  she  apt  to  be  discouraged  1     Is  she  a  little  obstinate  1 

Would  anybody  say  she  's  a  good  old  soul  ? 

Slow  of  development. 

One  needs  to  be  keen  and  sharp  to  make  nice  distinctions  in  this 
character.  She  is  often  misunderstood  and  it  hurts  her.  Doesn't  it 
make  her  less  simple  in  action1?  Cautious  and  care-taking.  Don't 
think  she  'd  set  a  house  on  fire. 

A  little  crotchety.     Builds  airy  castles. 

Puts  her  hands  behind  her  head. 

Very  honorable.     Pretty  persevering. 

The  peace  she  has  sometimes  is  not  constant. 

(E.  D.  C.  asked)  "Do  you  get  an  impression  of  her  religious  state  ]  " 

Is  it  always  clear  —  witty  ? 

Doubtful,  undecided,  fond  of  children ;  best  nature  comes  out  with 
children.  I  see  her  sitting  on  the  floor  playing  with  them.  See  her 
going  around  dusting  or  putting  things  in  order  and  humming.  It  is 
funny  I  sit  up  so  straight.  Shy  —  a  good  deal  of  natural  vivacity  of 
thought  and  manner,  but  repressed  by  circumstances. 

Is  she  fond  of  you  (to  E.  D.  C.)  ?     Is  she  fond  of  pets? 

Is  she  natural?  Don't  like  to  be  laughed  at,  rather  see  the  ridicu 
lous  in  others  than  have  them  see  it  in  her.  I  feel  it  in  my  elbows 
—  she  nudges  other  people's  elbows  sometimes.  Timid  in  some 
ways,  courageous  in  others,  —  would  stand  up  for  one  she  loved,  like 
an  animal  for  her  young. 

I  don't  want  to  get  down  into  the  sad  places.  Now  I  am  in  a 
snarl.  Is  she  orderly  1  Does  n't  she  play  well  with  children  1 

(Question  from  E.  D.  C.)  "  What  does  she  do  with  naughty 
children  ? " 

Aus.     Did  you  ever  have  your  ears  boxed  1 

Isn't  she  jealous? 

A  considerable  power  of  conviction  without  power  of  self-assertion. 

Timid  and  of  a  doubtful  mind  —  slowness  of  thought. 

Does  she  get  very  tired  ?     Every  little  while  she  gets  so  tired. 


240  APPENDIX. 

Don't  you  think  she  has  a  good  deal  of  patient  affection? 
She  is  warm-hearted.     Don't  you  think  sol 
Is  she  curious] 


SARAH  MARGARET  FULLER. 

A  good  deal  of  life  in  it  —  burns  —  not  the  outside  skin  merely, 
but  deep  into  the  bone.  I  can  hardly  hold  it  (changes  to  another 
letter  of  the  same  person).  This  does  not  burn  me  like  the  other  — 
in  a  different  mood. 

"  Is  it  sad  or  gay  1 " 

It  seems  lively  and  sad. 

"  Has  it  thought  or  feeling  ? " 

It  seems  full  of  both.  I  like  this  person  —  one  moment  it  seems 
near,  the  next  distant. 

"  Is  it  a  large  person  or  a  limited  one  ]  " 

Very  different  impressions  this  person  would  give  rne  from  differ 
ent  points  of  view. 

"  Is  there  much  moral  sentiment  1 " 

I  was  thinking  of  those  limits  you  mentioned.  When  I  see  the 
person  from  one  side  I  think  I  see  the  limits ;  when  I  change  my 
position  I  see  it  was  the  fault  of  my  vision. 

"  Generous  1  " 

Yes,  a  generous  character.  I  can't  take  in  the  whole  at  once.  Do 
you  remember  the  story  in  the  book  about  the  chameleon  1  I'll  try 
to  get  far  enough  off  to  see  the  whole.  A  good  deal  of  fun  in  him  I 
know. 

"  Is  there  any  there  1 " 

I  don't  know  —  a  good  deal  of  fun  in  the  person.  You  have  seen  a 
beautiful  autumn  day,  with  wind  and  shadows  flying  over  the  land 
scape.  This  person  is  like  that. 

"  Is  he  solitary  or  social  1 " 

Both,  solitary  in  society  and  social  in  solitude. 

«  Versatile  ? " 

Every  question  you  ask  with  two  sides  makes  me  want  to  say  both. 
Perhaps  because  she  is  truer  than  most  persons  and  follows  her  im 
pulses.  Mr.  Clarke's  voice  sounded  so  terribly  solemn  it  made  me 
laugh.  This  person  has  a  good  generous  heart. 

"Is  she  amiable]" 


PSYCHOMETRIC   READINGS.  241 

That  is  too  tame  a  word. 

"Sensitive]" 

No —  perhaps  he  is  —  you  would  find  him  always  where  you  did 
not  expect. 

"  Mathematical  mind,  or  a  lover  of  the  arts  1 " 

He  would  have  a  true  love  of  the  arts  —  not  like  to  see  great  gal 
leries  so  much  as  one  or  two  really  good  things — would  criticise 
them.  He  has  a  noble  soul. 

"  Does  he  neglect  things  not  beautiful  ? " 

He  finds  beauty  in  almost  everything. 

"  Is  he,  then,  free  from  contempt  ?  " 

No,  he  feels  contempt  for  what  is  truly  low. 

"  Is  it  a  musical  soul  1 " 

A  wild  music. 

"  What  is  the  sphere  of  life  ?  " 

I  can't  think  of  his  being  engaged  in  any  settled  business. 

"  Is  he  the  object  of  love  ? " 

Yes,  I  should  think  so. 

(To  R.  W.  E.)     Do  you  know  him  ?     «  Yes." 

(To  R.  W.  E.)     Do  you  love  him  1 

(R.  W.  E.)     "  Xo,  love  is  not  exactly  the  word." 

He  would  not  care  much  for  approbation. 

"  What  is  the  controlling  impulse  ?     Is  it  religious  1  " 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  religion  in  him  —  he  is  very  hard  to 
describe. 

"  Does  he  desire  love  1 " 

He  feels  the  want  of  it  rather  than  the  desire  for  it. 

"  What  makes  him  sad  ] " 

I  don't  know. 

"  Is  it  want  of  a  sphere  of  action  1 " 

Perhaps  it  is,  I  have  only  taken  an  outside  view. 

"  Is  there  depth  as  well  as  width  ? " 

(Bows  her  head  affirmatively.) 

A  sad,  deep,  earnest  feeling  —  so  earnest  in  this  letter.  The  whole 
life  seems  a  prayer  —  pressing  onward  —  a  struggle  —  life  seems  so 
earnest. 

"  What  difference  is  there  in  the  two  letters'? " 

There  is  more  of  soul  in  the  note.     ("  Which  was  written  first1?") 

The  note  seems  written  first,  but  seems  older. 

16 


242  APPENDIX. 

"  Is  there  more  soul  in  it  1 "     Yes. 

"  Is  it  a  contented  person  1 " 

No.  She  has  not  attained  perfect  command  of  herself — she  is 
striving  to  improve  her  character. 

"  A  lover  of  nature  1 " 

Yes.  It  seems  a  different  lover  of  nature  from  the  other.  I  won 
der  if  the  person  had  not  come  to  nature  through  thought  rather 
than  feeling  ] 

"  Sunrise  or  sunset,  which  does  it  love  1 " 

I  should  think  sunrise.  You  have  been  up  a  high  hill —  seen  hill 
beyond  hill  arise  as  you  ascended.  This  character  is  like  that. 

(To  R.  W.  E.)  Have  you  ever  had  much  intercourse  with  this 
person  1  You  have  had  a  great  deal  of  influence  upon  him. 

"  Is  the  person  very  susceptible  of  influence1? " 

I  should  think  not,  but  I  have  felt  several  times  that  you  have  had 
influence  on  the  person.  He  may  not  be  aware  of  it.  You  have  sent 
him  down  deeper  into  his  own  soul. 

"  Is  this  influence  reciprocal  1 " 

There  are  certain  points  in  the  character  that  have  commanded 
your  respect.  I  think  he  has  influenced  you,  not  so  much  as  you  have 
him. 

Mr.  Emerson  does  not  understand  this  person  fully.  He  says  he 
does  not  love  him,  but  I  think  he  ought  to.  He  wrongs  his  own 
nature  and  the  writer  also  by  not  loving  him. 

It  seems  as  if  she  had  toiled  up  an  ascent  with  her  back  toward 
the  landscape,  and  when  she  reached  the  summit  she  tasted  of  happi 
ness  —  had  not  known  the  meaning  of  the  word  before. 

"  Does  she  stay  on  this  summit1?" 

No,  she  is  not  a  stayer. 

My  head  feels  very  full  —  a  tendency  to  thought. 

This  is  a  large  person,  much  developed,  not  wholly.  She  is  not  the 
creature  of  society.  Has  a  mind  that  would  search  and  see  things  in 
their  true  relations  —  would  see  into  the  centre. 

"  Has  the  person  patience  1 " 

She  has  much  patience,  but  not  enough.  She  strives  to  be  white, 
whole,  I  mean,  and  to  say  things  in  a  white  light. 

"  Is  there  poetry  in  her  life  ? " 

Her  whole  life  is  a  poem.  I  don't  know  if  she  cares  for  influence 
over  others ;  she  might  originally  have  loved  power. 


PSYCHOMETRIC    READINGS.  243 

"  Is  she  sensitive  ?  " 

She  ought  not  to  be,  but  I  feel  as  if  she  is. 

"Is  she  proud  or  humble  1" 

Has  a  good  deal  of  humility  and  pride  too.  Might  be  thought 
more  proud  than  she  is.  Would  speak  of  herself  as  of  another. 

"  Does  she  love  reasoning?  " 

Has  loved  it  more  than  she  does.  Could  not  help  speaking  truth ; 
she  sees  truths  in  themselves  and  in  their  relations  to  one  another. 

"Does  society  content  this  mind?" 

I  was  just  looking  back  upon  her  past  life  —  terrible  at  first  — 
much  loathing  and  contempt.  I  don't  know  how  to  express  it  strong 
enough,  this  feeling  towards  herself.  After  a  time  came  hope  —  a 
better,  truer  view.  Much  to  struggle  with.  Now  she  has  only  occa 
sionally  those  retrospections. 

"  Are  her  hopes  high  ?  " 

She  has  high,  very  high  hopes.  At  times  she  is  transfigured.  It 
was  such  a  relief  your  asking  me  that  question. 

"What  objects  in  her  thoughts  are  most  grateful?  Books,  pic 
tures,  action,  or  society  ? " 

She  finds  great  pleasure  in  thoughts,  in  friends,  high  friends ;  can 
be  a  real  friend,  is  one  of  the  few  that  can.  Would  derive  pleasure 
from  music  and  drawings.  A  kindred  pleasure  she  would  get  from 
those  things.  I  can't  express  it.  If  we  were  only  in  that  vehicular 
state  how  nice  it  would  be.  She  would  appreciate  an  action  more 
than  she  once  would,  sees  true  greatness  better.  As  she  grows  older 
she  grows  younger.  I  don't  see  how  she  can  be  contented  with  the 
present  state  of  society. 

"What  makes  her  love  her  friends'?  Is  that  excellence  or  a 
defect?" 

An  excellence.  She  is  one  that  is  worthy  the  name  of  friend. 
Would  be  herself  and  wish  her  friend  to  be  herself.  One  could  be 
true  with  her.  One  could  receive  benefits  from  her  without  being 
degraded.  She  is  seeking  to  perfect  herself.  The  farther  she  gets  on, 
the  more  she  has  to  do  and  the  more  subtle  her  temptations  are. 

"  Is  it  a  strong  character,  or  a  peculiar  one1?" 

Peculiar.      Oh  !  much  more  than  I  thought  at  first. 

"  Put  your  hand  here  and  say  can  she  love  commonplace  people  ? " 

I  don't  like  to  put  my  hand  there.  I  was  in  a  higher  state 
before. 


244  APPENDIX. 

"  Is  this  truer  to  her  than  the  other  1 " 

It  was  an  unpleasant  change.  I  did  not  feel  myself  one  of  the 
human  family.  (I  will  read  it  to  you  presently). 

I  do  not  want  to  hear. 

(By  C.  S.  "  Is  she  good  for  the  sake  of  goodness,  or  because 
she  wished  to  be  perfect  herself]") 

There  is  gentleness,  tenderness,  refined  delicacy  —  at  times  she  might 
wound  the  feelings  of  others,  but  would  not  do  it  consciously  for  the 
world,  unless  she  would  wound  to  heal.  She  would  not  hesitate  to 
speak  the  truth  if  she  knew  it  would  do  good.  Has  yet  to  have  more 
patience  and  charity.  She  can't  understand  weakness,  she  is  so  strong 
herself  I  think  she  will.  Has  insight  into  character,  would  feel  what 
persons  were  when  she  had  seen  them  very  little ;  once  it  was  by 
thought,  now  it  is  more  by  instinct.  Goes  backward  to  go  forward,  is 
younger  as  she  is  older,  has  more  instinct  than  she  used  to  have. 

"  Is  it  a  soft,  or  splendid  nature]" 

I  don't  like  the  word  "splendid."  A  larger  person  than  most  of 
those  about  us.  She  is  not  whole  yet,  wants  more  patience. 

"  Is  it  pleasant  to  consider  this  character  1 " 

Oh,  I  like  her  very  much.  I  should  love  to  be  with  her.  I  should 
like  to  be  in  the  same  room,  but  should  not  care  to  have  her  address 
her  conversation  especially  to  me. 

"  Has  she  powers  of  conversation  1 " 

Great  powers.     I  think  she  is  a  very  true  person. 

JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

A  subdued  warmth  and  determination.  The  subdued  warmth 
gives  all  the  more  force  to  his  character.  A  strong,  compact  char 
acter,  —  a  good  deal  of  honesty,  integrity,  fairness,  uprightness  — 
in  public  life.  He  is  decidedly  honest,  and  you  seldom  find  a 
politician  who  is  so.  He  may  be  irritable.  He  is  impatient,  yet 
has  a  great  deal  of  patience  —  endurance.  He  has  been  successful 
in  public  life,  more  so  than  he  knows  —  a  true  success.  He  has 
had  bitter  enemies,  but  will  live  them  down  and  be  better  estimated 
by  posterity.  Is  a  just  man,  has  a  good  deal  of  warmth  —  deep 
warmth  —  fire.  Is  an  eloquent  man  —  his  thoughts  come  with  great 
rapidity  and  force  —  a  perfect  torrent.  I  feel  very  feeble  and  yet 
very  strong.  He  has  much  combativeness  —  is  a  religious  man  —  a 


PSYCHOMETRIC    READINGS.  245 

man  of  great  veneration.  He  has  much  knowledge  ;  his  mind  is  a 
rich  store-house  and  he  would  know  just  where  to  find  the  fact  he 
wanted  for  the  occasion  —  very  systematic.  I  tremble  all  over  and 
I  yet  feel  so  strong  as  if  I  could  face  a  thousand.  Has  great 
energy  —  good  deal  of  poetry  and  imagination  —  a  great  deal  of 
judgment  and  sagacity,  seldom  find  the  two  so  largely  combined  — 
very  moral  person  —  great  thinker  and  reasouer  —  great  insight  into 
matters  and  things.  When  opposed  feels  strong  in  his  own  integrity 
—  likes  opposition  to  a  certain  extent.  Combativeness  is  prominent 
in  his  character.  Will  be  looked  upon  by  ages  to  come  as  a  sort  of 
monument.  He  seems  so  compact,  a  sort  of  solid  honesty.  A  large 
but  not  a  whole  man.  Xot  a  perfect  character.  Has  great  self- 
respect,  and  his  justice  would  lead  him  to  speak  of  himself  as  he 
would  of  another ;  therefore  he  might  be  called  vain. 

"Are  you  sure  he  is  living?" 

He  seems  so  to  me,  but  he  has  one  foot  in  the  grave,  is  very 
excitable. 

"  Is  he  a  slave-holder  ] " 

I  disdain  to  answer  the  question. 

"  How  would  he  feel  about  the  annexation  of  Texas  1  " 

I  have  said  he  is  an  honest,  upright,  just  man.  Your  question 
makes  the  blood  tingle  in  all  my  veins.  He  is  very  excitable  at  times. 
Who  can  stand  before  his  indignation  at  injustice  or  oppression  ? 
The  subject  of  this  letter  agitates  and  excites  him  deeply.  Though 
so  feeble,  I  tremble  in  every  limb,  yet  I  could  face  the  world  if  need 
be.  Has  great  moral  courage.  I  can  hardly  hold  the  letter  in  my 
trembling  hands,  yet  I  am  strong,  firm,  unshaken,  and  unshakable. 
He  has  not  met  with  more  success  than  he  believes,  has  laid  the 
foundation  for  success.  He  does  his  duty  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 
The  death  of  his  friends  would  affect  him  more  than  would  be  sup 
posed  from  his  strength  of  character,  but  their  misconduct  more, 
though  his  affections  would  never  interfere  with  his  justice.  Is  a 
patriot  —  loves  his  country.  He  is  obstinate,  takes  up  strong,  im 
movable  prejudices.  He  will  always  do  his  duty,  tho'  sometimes  con 
trary  to  his  friends'  expectations.  This  would  trouble  him,  for  he 
loves  the  approbation  of  friends,  but  his  own  more.  He  would  state 
principles  he  believed  true  if  all  the  world  were  against  him. 
Eminently  a  just  man. 

March  29,  1844.  J°HX  QUIXCY  ADAMS" 


2-46  APPENDIX, 


A.  BRONSON  ALCOTT. 

A  slow  warmth.  It  affects  me  rather  sadly.  Either  the  subject 
of  the  letter  or  the  person  is  anxious,  earnest,  not  very  happy,  feels 
deeply,  not  very  mirthful.  Much  warmth,  not  apparent  at  first.  I'm 
strongly  impressed  with  sadness,  seriousness.  Stern  realities  of  life 
affect  him.  The  person  is  interested  in  reform.  Not  much  of  a 
talker  —  desire  to  reflect  rather  than  to  talk.  Deficient  in 
physical  strength.  Not  that  clear  view  of  things  that  I  received 
from  J.  Q.  A.  Thinker,  dwells  in  abstractions.  Organs  of  foresight, 
&c.,  active  —  much  insight,  not  trifler  but  very  serious,  not  enough 
that  is  light  in  his  character  to  counterbalance  this  seriousness. 
Much  spirituality  —  not  very  happy  —  character  not  equally  de 
veloped —  not  an  unpleasant  impression  —  more  love  of  power  per 
haps  than  self-esteem.  Things  not  realities  to  others  are  stern 
realities  to  him.  He  lives  rather  in  the  world  of  thought  than  that 
of  the  affections.  Not  a  common  character  —  quite  deep — a  difficult 
character  to  speak  of.  Doubtful  if  his  views  are  clear  to  himself  and 
if  he  has  facility  in  imparting  them  to  others.  His  thoughts  are  clearer 
than  they  seem,  they  are  so  deep  —  for 

' '  Thoughts  are  deeper  than  all  speech. " 

Calm  —  not  impetuous,  but  impulsive  —  self-control  —  love  of 
truth  in  highest  sense  — love  of  perfect  honesty  —  perfect  justice  — 
perfect  sincerity  —  through  faith  in  these,  benefits  others.  Does  good 
by  being  rather  than  doing.  His  influence  is  great.  He  combines 
highest  goodness  with  some  little  weaknesses.  Very  unlike  J.  Q.  A. 
—  could  not  comprehend  each  other.  He  could  not  begin  to  have  his 
own  opinions  and  plans  thwarted.  Irritable,  but  calm.  Must  speak 
slowly,  say  just  the  right  words  in  just  the  right  way.  Gentle,  want 
ing  in  character  perhaps  —  apparent  coldness. 

"Has  he  succeeded  in  life?"  Does  not  give  me  the  impression  of 
success.  His  aims  are  high  and  thus  he  does  much  good,  also  by  his 
faith  in  what  might  be  done.  He  should  not  be  wholly  satisfied  with 
his  life  because  of  his  little  weaknesses.  Might  appear  selfish,  not 
from  regarding  self-interest  but  from  forgetfulness  of  others.  He  is 


PSYCHOMETRIC    READINGS.  247 

wrapt  up  in  himself,  not  because  he  is  himself,  but  in  the  prin 
ciples  of  which  he  considers  himself  the  embodiment.  A  perplexing 
character  —  one  of  much  beauty,  purity,  ideality. 

"  Is  he  a  clergyman  1 "  In  one  way  he  ministers  to  others,  but  I  do 
not  think  him  a  clergyman.  Seems  a  teacher  to  teachers  by  his  life 
—  more  useful  as  a  sign-post  pointing  the  right  way  than  as  a  guide. 
He  may  think  he  has  attained  more  than  he  has.  Almost  seems  not 
living,  were  it  not  for  some  earthly  clogs.  Seems  so  spiritual.  Not 
in  the  so-called  actual  world  as  much  as  most.  Not  a  business  man 

surely.     The  idea  of  him  in  State  Street — "on  'Change" is  too 

ludicrous  —  as  soon  expect  a  ghost  down  there.  Know  not  where  he 
would  be  at  home.  "  In  Community  ?  "  Know  not  that  he  would 
be  happy  in  Community.  Most  himself  in  a  twilight  room,  calmly  re 
flecting  or  speaking  in  a  low,  gentle  tone  thoughts  as  they  arise.  He 
can  be  agitated  and  excited,  more  so  than  I  thought.  He  would  not 
like  opposition  to  his  view.  Not  very  tolerant  of  the  weakness  of 
others —  does  not  see  his  own  —  very  pure  —  more  decision  than  firm 
ness —  a  restless  spirit  seeking  his  sphere,  which  he  has  not  found. 
Aim  is  very  high  and  in  right  direction.  Does  not  take  in  all  parts 
of  his  nature.  Does  not  always  remember  that  he  is  an  embodied 
spirit.  Activity  of  organs  in  centre  of  forehead  —  foresight,  etc., 
etc.,  injure  his  health.  Bather  a  spiritual  than  a  human  being. 

March  29,  1844.  A.  B.  ALCOTT. 


248  APPENDIX. 


My  father's  account  book  for  the  first  years  of  his  marriage  give 
some  interesting  items  of  domestic  economy.  The  first  house  was 
on  Belknap  Street,  which  is  still  standing,  and  it  is  curious  to  compare 
the  price  of  rent  then  with  that  of  to-day. 

Items. 

House  in  Belknap  Street.     Agreed  with  Joseph  H.  Whiting  to  continue 
at  his  house  at  two  hundred  ninety-five  dollars  ($295)  per  year's  rent. 
Dec.  4,  1826,  moved  into  Tilden's  house,  Hayward  Place.     Rent  $425. 

Price  of  Service. 

Nov.  28, 1826.  Dolly  Gilman  commenced  her  service  at  7/6  —  $1.25  per 
week. 

June  5,  1828.     Bridget  Daley  came  at  7/6  per  week. 
September,  1820.     Charlotte  Cross  came  for  $1  per  week. 

For  Furniture. 

Total  of  expenses  for  the  first,  year,  $778.80,  of  which  $100  was  given  by 
Grandfather.  The  second  year  the  cost  was  $40.60. 

Time-piece  $25.  —  1  doz.  cut  glass  tumblers  $3.50  —  Do.  Wines  $3.50. 

The  total  amount  for  house  expenses  without  furniture  was  $1041.85. 

For  1821,  two  years  after  marriage,  wife's  account  was  $67.04,  husband's 
$8o.99,  Mary  F.,  child,  13.85,  provisions  and  liquor  $231.97. 

For  1822  the  total  expense  is  $1183.37.  Provisions  $387.53.  Wood 
$80.31.  Wages  $57.  Wife's  account  $70.27.  Husband's  account  $117.76. 

In  1823,  $1057.96.  Provisions,  $389.91.  The  price  of  yeast  does  not 
vary,  two  cents  are  charged.  Wood  is  $35.38  per  6£  cords,  sawing  $5.52. 

Flour  $17.00  a  barrel,  butter  20  cts.,  beef-steak  9  cts.,  eggs  18  cts.,  cheese 
9  cts.,  1  turkey  74  cts. 

10  buckets  of  coal  at  23  cts.  per  bucket.  Goose  56  cts.  Corned-beef  5 
cts.  Barrel  apples  $3.50.  1  Cod-fish  25.  2  lemons  12.  Milk  $2.50. 
Peck  apples  62.  Passage  to  Exeter  $3.00.  Lobster  12.  Asparagus  18. 
Dates  6.  £  doz.  pigeons  38.  Postage  10  cts. 

1  pair  ducks  75.  1  bbl.  Russetts  $1.50.  1  goose  31.  1  qt.  Strawberries 
25.  Potatoes  37  per  bushel. 

Stage  fare  to  Gloucester  $4.00. 

A  party  to  Columbian  Museum  $1.50. 

Pew  Tax  $5.35. 


APPENDIX.  249 

Theatre  to  see  Wallack  $2.00. 
Museum  to  hear  the  dwarfs  sing  SI. 00. 

Ticket  in  lottery  $5.00.     Museum  with  Hannah  P.  Dow  50  cts. 
Carriage  to  take  an  airing  $2.00  and  $1.00. 
Horse  and  chaise  to  Exeter  $10.00. 
Carriage  to  a  whist  party  50  cts. 
Dr.  Gorham's  bill  $22.00. 

Theatre  to  see  Kean  $3.80.     Wife's  passage  to  Exeter  $2.00. 
Theatre  to  see  Cooper  in  Romeo  $3.00.     Recovering  umbrella  $4.00. 
Theatre  to  see  Mathews  with  Elizabeth  and  Mr.  Babson  $8.19. 
Leghorn  Bonnet  $13. 50.     Goose  37.     Parasol  $6.00.    Gloves  33.    Gloves 
60. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 

OF 

PRINCIPAL   PERSONS   MENTIONED. 


ABBOT,  Benjamin,  31. 

Abbot,  Francis  E.,  147. 

Abbot,  Joseph  Hale,  19,  20,  21,  39. 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  244,  246,  247. 

Adams,  Nehemiah,  90. 

Alcott,  A.  Bronson,  25,  100,  121,  122, 

143,  147,  182,  187,  189,  190,  202,  244, 

246. 

Alcott,  Abby  May,  142. 
Alcott,  Louisa  M.,  41,  64,  67,  190. 
Allston,  Washington,  130,  146,  184. 
Ames,  Joseph,  133. 
Armstrong,  Gen.  S.  C.,  97. 

BABCOCK,  William,  139. 
Ball,  Thomas,  137. 
Bartol,  Cyrus,  147,  232. 
Bartol,  Elizabeth,  142. 
Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  49. 
Bellows,  Albert,  75. 
Besant,  Walter,  67. 
Billings,  Hammatt,  132. 
Blackwell,  Elizabeth  R.,  60. 
Bond,  Hugh  L.,  87,  88. 
Bonheur,  Rosa,  144. 
Booth,  Junius  Brutus,  171. 
Botume,  Elizabeth  Hyde,  90. 
Bowditch,  Henry  I.,  30. 
Brackett,  Edward,  63. 
Bradford,  Sarah  H.,  81. 
Brown,  John,  81,  82. 
Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett,  208. 
Bruce,  Georgiana,  199. 
Bryant,  William  Cullen,  132. 


Buchanan,  Joseph  R.,  78,  79. 
Butler,  Josephine,  120,  169. 

CANEDY,  Bessy,  88. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  187,  188,  212. 

Channing,  Eva,  86. 

Channing,  William   Henry,   147,    181, 

182,  183,  193,  196,  202,331. 
Chapman,  Maria  Weston,  211. 
Chase,  Lucy,  88. 
Chase,  Sarah,  88. 
Cheney,  Harriet,  134,  142. 
Cheney,  Jane,  49,  50,  51,  239. 
Cheney,    John,   49,    67,    68,    132,    136, 

141. 

Cheney,  Margaret  Swan,  86,  119. 
Cheney,  Seth  W.,  59,  132,  133,  136, 141, 

144/146,  238. 

€hild,  Lydia  Maria,  112,  192, 195,  211. 
Choate,  Rufus,  117. 
Clark,  Jane  M.,  146. 
Clarke,  James  Freeman,  61,  124,  182, 

188,  193,  214. 

Clarke,  Sarah  F.,  130,  145,  146,  184. 
Crafts,  Ellen,  83. 
Crafts,  William,  83,  115. 
Crauch,  Christopher  P.,  138,  183. 
Crocker,  Lucretia,    85,  89,  90,   91,   92, 

93,  95,  98,   159. 
Curtis,  Augusta  R.,  60,  74. 
Gushing,  Lucy,  17. 

DALL,  Caroline  H.,  60. 
Dana,  Sarah  B.,  53. 


252 


INDEX   OF  NAMES. 


Dimock,  Susan,  67. 

Dix,  John  H.,  35. 

Dow,  Ednah,  26. 

Dow,  Jane  W.,  58. 

Dow,  Jeremiah,  2. 

Dubourjal,  Savinien  Edome,  141. 

Dwight,  John  S.,  181,  183,  186,  188. 

EDGEWORTH,  Maria,  30. 

Elder,  William,  71. 

Eliot,  Charles  W.,  135. 

Emerson,  Ealph  Waldo,  3,  42,  43,49, 
61,  99,  122,  127,  133,  135,  138,  143, 
147,  181,  182,  183,  187,  188,  189,  193, 
199,  206,  213,  214,  217,  233,  242. 

Emerson,  Waldo,  126,  127,  214. 

FARNHAM,  Eliza,  192. 

Fawcett,  Henry,  120. 

Fenuer,  George,  45. 

Fields,  James  T.,  32,  41. 

Fisher,  John  D.,  12,  69. 

Flagg,  Dr.,  72. 

Foley,  Margaret,  76,  145. 

Follen,  Eliza  Lee,  136,  147,  192. 

Folsom,  Abby,  112,  113,  114,  115. 

Fowle,  William  B.,  10,  15, 17, 18,  19,  65. 

Francis,  Abby,  88,  89. 

Frothiugham,  James,  131. 

Frothingham,  O.  B.,  123,  125,  147. 

Fuller,  George,  141. 

Fuller,  Margaret,  28,  99,  100,  101,  126, 

130,  143,  146,  182,  183,  184,   185,  186, 

187,  192-222,  240. 
Furness,  William,  70,  71,  75,  137. 

GANNETT,  Ezra  S.,  90. 

Gannett,  William  C.,  85,  90. 

Garibaldi,  Giuseppe,  219. 

Garrison,  William  Lloyd,  36,  85,  120, 

121. 

Goddard,  Lucy,  61,  62,  148,  155. 
Goddard,  Matilda,  105,  107,  108,  109. 
Gore,  Anne,  53,  103. 
Graham,  John,  87. 
Greeley,  Horace,  199,  214. 
Greene,  Elizabeth,  142. 
Grimke,  Angelina,  156. 
Grimke,  Archibald,  156. 
Grimke,  Sarah,  156. 
Gurney,  Ellen,  85. 


HALE,  Edward  Everett,  16. 

Hale,  John  P.,  46,  47,  48. 

Hale,  Susan,  142. 

Haliburtou,  Mary  Ann,  26,  27. 

Hardy,  Ednah,  2. 

Harris,  Wm.  T.  100,  122,  126,  190. 

Harrison,  William  Henry,  23,  25. 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  183,  206. 

Healy,  George  P.  A.,  47,  48. 

Hedge,  Frederick  H.,  181,  183,  188. 

Higginson,  Thomas  Wentworth,  85,  86, 

147,  149,  163,  189,   193,  196,  201,  206. 
Hill,  Mrs.,  72,  74. 
Hillard,  George,  43. 
Hoar,  Elizabeth,  127. 
Holley,  Horace,  29,  101. 
Hooper,  Edward  W.,  85,  157. 
Hosrner,  Harriet,  145. 
Hovey,  Charles  F.,  57,  112,  113. 
Howe,  Julia  Ward,   75,  151,   152,   155, 

158,  160,  193,  199,  208,  237. 
Howe,  Samuel  G.,  13. 
Howitt,  Mary,  146. 
Howitt,  William,  146. 
Hudson,  Henry  Norman,  24. 
Hunt,  Harriot  Kezia,  51,  52,  53,  60,  72. 
Hunt,  William  M.  138,  139. 
Hutchinson,  Anne,  180. 
Hugo,  Victor,  129. 

IBSEN,  Henrik,  67. 

JACKSON,  Francis,  114. 

Jacobs,  Harriet,  80. 

Janes,  Lewis  G.,  149,  163. 

Johnson,  Eastman,  138. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  44,  54,  118,  147,  224. 

Joinville,  Prince  de,  34. 

KING,  Thomas  Starr,  42. 
Koehler,  S.  R.  68. 
Kossuth,  Louis,  111. 

LAMSON,  Silas,  114,  115. 
Lane,  Mrs.  Jonathan,  85. 
Leighton,  Rufus,  105. 
Lewes,  George  Henry,  79. 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  124. 
Littlehale,  Anna  W.,  102,  126. 
Littlehale,  Elizabeth  D.,  13. 
Littlehale,  Helen  P.,  119. 


INDEX    OF    NAMES. 


253 


Littlehale,  Mary  Frances,  15,  106. 
Littlehale,  Richard,  4. 
Littlehale,  Sargent  S.,  12. 
Longfellow,  H.  W.,  135. 
Longfellow,  Samuel,  148. 
Lowe,  Mary  S.,  30,  31. 
Lowell,  James  Russell,  75, 100, 101,  133, 
135,  230. 

MASOX,  Jeremiah,  233. 

Mason,  Lowell,  16. 

May,  Abbie  W.,  74,  75,  85,  86,   87,  133, 

159. 

May,  Eleanor,  86. 
May,  Frederick  W.  G.,  37. 
May,  Samuel,  39. 
May,  Samuel  J.,  83,  118. 
Mazzini,  Giuseppe,  212,  213,  217. 
Mellen,  Geo.  W.,  111. 
Millet,   Jean    Francois,    59,    139,    140, 

185. 

Mills,  Charles  A.  B.,  148. 
Miner,  Alonzo,  A.,  66. 
Moore,  Rebecca,  120. 
Mott,  Lucretia,  71,  148. 
Mott,  Valentine,  51. 
Murray,  John,  52. 

NIGHTINGALE,  Florence,  232. 
Norton,  Charles  Eliot,  75,  188. 

OHLENHAUSER,  Mrs.,  76. 
Otis,  Harrison  Gray,  130. 
Osgood,  Lucy,  118. 

PAGE,  William,  133,  134,  135. 

Paine,  Thomas,  181. 

Parker,  Eduah,  2,  3. 

Parker,  Theodore,  3,  5,  22,  25,  33,  49, 

52,  54,  99,  101,  102,  103,  104,  106,  107, 

110,  111,  112,  113,  115,  116,  119,  124, 

168,  181,  182,  188,  225,  231. 
Parkmau,  John,  30,  46,  85,  157. 
Parsons,  Anna  Q.  T.,  72. 
Peabody,  Elizabeth  P.,  69,  125,  155,  182, 

183,  192;  204,  210. 
Peabody,  Lucia  M.,  159. 
Peabody,  Nathaniel  C.,  69. 
Pemberton,  Joanna,  9,  10. 
Pemberton,  Mary  E.  R.  R.,  9,  10,  18. 
Perkins,  Stephen,  142. 


Philbrick,  John  D.,  49. 
Phillips,  Wendell,  112,  114,  117. 
Pickens,  James,  6. 
Pierpont,  John,  29. 
Potter,  William  J.,  147. 
Powers,  Hiram,  133. 

RANTOUL,  Robert,  36. 
Rauch,  Christian  Daniel,  67. 
Reed,  Edward,  3,  4. 
Richardson,  James,  44,  45,  102. 
Rimmer,  William,  141,  144. 
Ripley,  George,  183. 
Ripley,  Mary  A.,  151. 
Ripley,  Sophia,  192. 
Robbins,  Ellen,  76. 
Roosevelt,  Theodore,  154,  169. 
Rowse,  Samuel,  133. 

SANBORN,  Frank  B.,  100,  130,  190. 

Sargent,  John  T.,  72,  147. 

Scheffer,  Ary,  139,  185. 

Scott,  David,  83,  121,  143,  144,  213. 

Scott,  Winfield,  23. 

Sedgwick,  Catherine,  192. 

Sen,  Kesho  Chunder,  148. 

Sewall,  Harriet  E.,  67. 

Sewall,  Harriet  W.,  67,  236. 

Shannon,  Mary  C.,  28,  45,  53,  69. 

Shannon,  Mary,  Jr.,  55. 

Shaw,  Anna,  35. 

Shaw,  Lemuel,  139. 

Shaw,  Robert  G.,  83,  84,  235. 

Silliman,  Benjamin,  102. 

Smith,  Dorcas,  21. 

Smith,  Jeremiah,  31. 

Smith,  Jeremiah,  Jr.,  31. 

Spear,  John  F.,  114. 

Spring,  Marcus,  202,  212,  213. 

Spring,  Rebecca  B.,  202,  212,  213. 

Spurzheim,  Johann  Gaspar,  18. 

Staigg,  Richard,  137. 

Stevenson,  Hannah  E  ,  85,  88,  105. 

Story,  William,  138. 

Stuart,  Gilbert,  129,  131. 

Sumner,  Charles,  37,  74,  118,  146. 

TAYLOR,  Peter,  120,  121. 
Tennyson,  Alfred,  207. 
Thayer,  Caroline,  107. 
Townsend,  Elizabeth,  70. 


254 


INDEX    OF   NAMES. 


Trumbull,  John,  129,  130. 
Tubman,  Harriet,  81. 
Tyler,  John,  23. 

VAN  BUREN,  Martin,  22. 
Villari,  Pasquale,  219,  221,  222. 

WALKER,  Amasa,  20. 

Walker,  Ariana  S.,  57. 

Walter,  Cornelia,  23,  25,  64. 

Walter,  Lynde,  24,  26,  64. 

Ward,  Samuel  G.,  72. 

Washington,  Booker  T.,  55,  153,   154, 

156. 

Wasson,  David  A.,  67, 123, 124, 125, 148. 
Webster,  DanU,  31,  32,  33,  47,  48,  117, 

133,  137. 
Weiss,  John,  54,  147. 


Weld,  Theodore,  117,  156. 
Wesselhoefft,  William,  69. 
West,  Benjamin,  129. 
Whipple,  Charles  K.,  117,  168. 
Whipple,  Edwin  P.,  117. 
Whitney,  Anne,  145. 
Whittier,  John  G.,  94,  101,  157. 
Willard,  Frances  E.,  105. 
Williams,  Ann,  14. 
Willis,  N.  P.,  80,  81. 
Willis,  Mrs.,  81. 
Wild,  Hamilton,  134. 
Winthrop,  Theodore,  46. 
Wyman,  Lillie  Chase,  156, 

YOUNG,  Alexander  29,  30. 
ZAKRZEWSKA,  Marie  Elizabeth,  60. 


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